Uondel's  Cucifer 


zfa  Joe^tJ  Sclera,  cum.    /■^aV3>6J^S'  VS-   artz.  re^ff/yit. 


ifAosufrctj, 


1  ^  QU 


Entered  according  to  act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1898, 
by  Continental  Publishing  Co.,  in  the  office  of 
the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


&5  V5 


Dedicaied  By  permission 
To  the 

fiollana  society  of  Dew  Vork 

Which  has  ever  shonon  a  great  interest  in  the 

achievements  of  the  heroic  race  to  ivhich 

it  proudly  traces  its  origin 

and 

To  my  brother 

Cbarles  Ceonara  van  Doppen 

Whose  inspiring   tove  and  self-sacrificing 

devotion  have  made  this  effort 

possible 


PAGE 

Translator's  Preface J  3 

Introduction  .  .  Dr,  W.  K  Carpenter,  \9 
Vondel  and  His  Lucifer.  Dr,  G,  Kalff  .  .  27 
Vondel :  His  Life  and  Times.     A  Sketch. 

Translator  .  .  4J 
The  **  Lucifer.''     An  Interpretation. 

Translator       .         .157 

Bibliography  ,  " 227 

Parallelisms  between  Vondel  and  Milton         .  229 

Vondel's  Dedication 239 

On  His  Majesty's  Portrait       .         .         .         .243 

Vondel's  Foreword 245 

Lucifer 259 

The  Argument 263 

Dramatis  Personae 265 

Act  I.  The  Peaceful  Joys  of  Paradise  .  .  267 
Act  II.  The  Cloud  of  Conspiracy  .  .  .  295 
Act  IIL  The  Gathering  Gloom  .  .  .  329 
Act  rV.  The  Seething  Seas  of  Sedition  .  .  373 
Act   V.  Flood  and  Flame 403 

9 


^n^ 


Tllu$tration$. 


PAGE 

Portrait  of  Von<ieI  .  ♦  .  .  Frontispiece, 
The  Falling  Morning  Star      ♦        .        .        .  237 

Lucifer *        *        .  26\ 

ApoIIion's  Meeting  with  Belzebub  and  Belial.  27J 
Adam  and  Eve  in  Paradise  before  the  Fall     .  279 

Chorus  of  Angels 289 

The  Exaltation  of  Man 299 

Gabriel,  the  Herald  and  Interpreter  of  Heaven  Z\\ 

The  Sorrowing  Angels 333 

Michaelt  God's  Field-marshal ....  355 

The  Disaffected  Spirits 375 

Rafael  Pleading  with  Lucifer  .  .  .  389 
The  Battle  in  the  Heavens  .  .  .  .417 
Our  First  Parents  after  the  Fall  .  .  .429 
The  Rebels  in  Hell 435 


Cranslator's  Preface. 


'T  is  with  a  feeling  of  diffidence  that  I 
offer  to  American  readers  this  the 
first  English  version  of  that  unknown 
Titan,  Vondel,  a  poet  of  whom 
Southey's  words  on  Bilderdyk,  an- 
other Dutch  bard,  might  also  have  been 
spoken : 

"  The  language  of  a  state 
Inferior  in  illustrious  deeds  to  none, 
But  circumscribed  by  narrow  bounds,     .     .     . 
Hath  pent  within  its  sphere  a  name  wherewith 
Europe  should  else  have  rung  from  side  to  side." 

This  translation  of  the  "Lucifer"  is  the  re- 
sult of  years  of  careful  study,  and  I  may  there- 
fore be  pardoned  for  calling  it  a  conscientious 
effort.     My  object   has  been  to  give  merely  a 

13 


TRANSLATOR'S 

literal  but  sympathetic  rendering.  It  has  been 
my  aim  to  preserve  the  old  poet  in  all  his  rug- 
ged simplicity,  for  every  syllable  of  this  classic 
has  been  hallowed  by  centuries.  It  is  sacred, 
and  every  change  is  but  a  desecration. 

Sacred  as  is  the  body  of  such  a  poem,  yet 
how  much  holier  is  its  spirit — the  elusive  prop- 
erties of  its  soul !  But  how  seldom  does  the 
translation  of  a  great  classic  prove  other  than 
the  breaking  of  the  chalice  and  the  spilling  of 
the  wine !  Yet  if  but  some  faint  aroma  of  its 
original  beauty  linger  around  the  fragment  of 
this  offering — this  version  of  Vondel's  grand 
drama — I  lay  down  my  pen  content. 

I  am  aware  that  less  accuracy  and  a  greater 
freedom  might  in  many  places  have  produced 
a  more  ornate  and  highly  finished  rendering; 
but  this,  it  seems  to  me,  would  have  weakened 
a  poem — a  poem  whose  chief  merit  is  its  re- 
markable virility.  Every  word  in  a  translation 
of  a  classic,  not  in  the  original,  is  but  the  alloy 
that  lessens  the  proportion  of  true  gold  in  the 
coin  of  its  worth.  Felicitous  paraphrasing  is 
often  only  a  confession  of  inability  to  translate 
an  author  into  the  true  terms  of  poetical  equa- 
tion. Mere  prettinesses  are  surely  not  to  be 
expected  in  a  poem  so  sublime  and  stately.  I 
have  therefore  followed  the  text  of  the  original 
very  closely. 

14 


PREFACE. 

The  body  of  the  drama  was  written  by  Von- 
del  in  rimed  Alexandrines.  This  part  of  the 
play  I  have  rendered  into  blank  verse — a  met- 
rical form  far  better  suited  to  the  English 
drama,  and  also  more  adapted  to  the  genius  of 
our  language.  It  is  obvious,  too,  that  this  ad- 
mits of  much  greater  accuracy  in  the  trans- 
lation. 

I  have,  however,  scrupulously  adhered  to  the 
original  metres  of  all  the  choruses — most  of 
them  very  involved  and  intricate,  some  modelled 
after  the  antique— even  to  preserving  the  femi- 
nine and  interior  rimes;  for  the  utility  and 
beauty  of  the  chorus  is  in  its  music,  and  the 
music  consists  in  both  metre  and  rime.  I  have 
also  generally  followed  Vondel's  capitalization 
and  punctuation,  and  his  spelling  of  the  names 
of  the  characters,  as  Belzebub,  Rafael,  ApoUion, 

etc. 

With  the  much  discussed  question  of  Milton's 
indebtedness  to  Vondel  this  effort  has  nothing 
to  do.  I  mention  this  merely  to  show  that  this 
version  was  not  made  that  it  might  be  adduced 
as  proof  of  Vondel's  influence  on  his  great  Eng- 
lish contemporary.  It  has  a  much  higher  rea- 
son to  commend  it  ;  namely,  the  intrinsic  value 
of  the  original  as  a  poem  and  as  a  national  mas- 
terpiece. My  desire  has  been  to  give  Vondel ; 
and  Vondel  is  a  sufficient  justification. 

IS 


TRANSLATOR'S 

At  the  same  time,  I  was  not  displeased  when 
I  received  a  letter  from  a  distinguished  Ameri- 
can scholar,  stating  that  this  translation  also 
incidentally  fills  a  wide  gap  in  the  Miltonic 
criticism,  and  that  it  thus  supplies  a  great  de- 
sideratum. 

With  this  version  of  Vondel's  masterpiece  I 
have  also  been  asked  to  give  a  sketch  of  the 
poet  and  his  time,  and  an  interpretation  of  the 
drama,  since  there  is  so  little  in  English  on  the 
subject. 

In  writing  the  former,  I  found  much  of  value 
in  Mr.  Gosse's  charming  essays  on  Vondel,  in 
his  "  Northern  Studies."  I  must  also  acknowl- 
edge my  great  obligations  to  Dr.  KalfT's  "  Life 
of  Vondel." 

Before  closing  I  wish  to  thank  the  poets  and 
scholars  of  the  Netherlands  for  their  encourage- 
ment. Their  kind  reception  of  my  effort  was  a 
gratifying  surprise  to  me. 

I  must  also  take  this  opportunity  to  record 
the  kindness  of  that  eminent  scholar.  Dr.  G. 
Kalff,  Professor  of  Dutch  Literature  in  the 
University  of  Utrecht,  who,  though  over- 
whelmed with  professional  duties,  with  the 
most  painstaking  care  examined  every  part  of 
my  translation,  giving  me,  furthermore,  the 
benefit  of  his  critical  observations.  The  brilliant 
article  on  Vondel  and  his  "  Lucifer,"  with  which 

i6 


PREFACE. 

he  has  favored  this  volume,  is  an  added  reason 
for  my  gratitude. 

I  also  thank  Dr.  W.  H.  Carpenter  of  Colum- 
bia University  for  his  kind  interest  in  my  work, 
and  for  his  invaluable  introduction. 

And,  finally,  to  my  friends,  Prof.  Henry  Je- 
rome Stockard,  the  Southern  poet  ;  Dr.  Thomas 
Hume,  Professor  of  English  Literature  in  the 
University  of  North  Carolina;  and  Dr.  C. 
Alphonso  Smith,  Professor  of  English  in  the 
University  of  Louisiana,  I  also  express  my 
thanks  for  some  excellent  suggestions. 


17 


Tntroductiom 


Uondcrs  Cucifer  in  €ndli$D. 

'T  has  become  a  matter  of  literary- 
tradition,  in  Holland  and  out  of  it, 
that  the  choral  drama  of  "  Lucifer  " 
is  the  great  masterpiece  of  Dutch 
literature.  The  Dutch  critics,  how- 
ever, are  by  no  manner  of  means  unanimous  in 
this  opinion.  In  point  of  fact,  it  has  been  as- 
signed by  some  a  place  relatively  subordinate 
among  the  works  of  this  "  Dutch  Shakespeare," 
as  they  are  fond  of  calling  Vondel  at  home. 
No  other  one,  however,  in  the  long  list  of  his 
dramas  and  poems,  from  the  "  Pascha  "  of  1612 
to  his  last  translations  of  1671,  the  beginning 
and  the  end  of  a  literary  career,  in  which  one  of 
the  greatest  of  Dutch  writers  on  its  history  has 

19 


INTRODUCTION: 

pronounced  the  poetry  of  the  Netherlands  to 
have  attained  its  zenith,  will,  none  the  less,  so 
strongly  appeal  to  us,  outside  of  Holland,  as 
does  the  "  Lucifer."  Vondel's  tragedy  "  Gys- 
breght  van  Amstel"  may  have  found  far  greater 
favor  as  a  drama,  and  the  poet  may  possibly  in 
his  lyrics  have  risen  to  his  greatest  height ;  but 
neither  the  one  nor  the  other,  in  spite  of  this, 
can  have  such  supreme  claims  upon  our  atten- 
tion. 

Why  this  is  so  is  dependent  upon  a  variety 
of  reasons.  It  is  not  solely  on  account  of  the 
lofty  character  of  the  subject,  nor  because  we 
have  an  almost  identical  one  in  a  great  poem  in 
English  literature,  between  which  and  the  "  Lu- 
cifer "  there  is  a  more  than  generic  resemblance. 
The  question  of  Milton's  indebtedness  to  Von- 
del  is  no  longer  to  be  considered  an  open  one, 
and  has  resolved  itself  into  an  inquiry  simply  as 
to  the  amount  of  the  influence  exerted.  This 
is  an  interesting  phase  of  the  matter,  and,  since 
it  involves  one  of  our  great  classics,  an  impor- 
tant one.  The  two  poems,  nevertheless,  how- 
ever great  this  influence  may  be  shown  to  be, 
are  by  no  manner  of  means  alike  in  detail,  and 
one  main  source  of  interest  to  us,  to  whom 
"Paradise  Lost"  is  a  heritage,  is  undoubtedly 
to  compare  the  treatment  of  such  a  subject  by 
two  great  poets  of  different  nationalities.     The 


DR.  CARPENTER. 

paramount  reason,  however,  why  the  "  Lucifer  " 
should  appeal  to  us  is  because  it  is,  in  reality, 
one  of  the  great  poems  of  the  world  ;  because 
of  its  inherent  worth,  its  seriousness  of  purpose, 
the  sublimity  of  its  fundamental  conceptions, 
its  whole  loftiness  of  tone.  When  the  critics 
praise  others  of  Vondel's  works  for  excellences 
not  shared  by  the  "  Lucifer,"  they  extol  him 
immeasurably,  for  there  is  enough  in  this  poem 
alone  to  have  made  its  author  immortal. 

It  is  a  matter  of  surprise  that  down  to  the 
present  time  there  has  been  no  English  transla- 
tion of  "Lucifer,"  although,  after  all,  its  neglect 
is  but  a  part  of  the  general  indifference  among 
us  to  the  literature  of  Holland  in  all  periods  of 
its  history.  Why  this  should  be  so  is  not  quite 
apparent ;  for  wholly  apart  from  the  important 
question  of  action  and  reaction  as  a  constituent 
part  of  the  world's  literature,  the  literature  of 
Holland  has  in  it,  in  almost  every  phase  of  its 
development,  sublimities  and  beauties  of  its 
own  which  surely  could  not  always  remain  hid- 
den. An  era  of  translation  was  sure  to  set  in, 
and  it  is  a  matter  of  significance  that  its  herald 
has  even  now  appeared. 

That  the  first  considerable  translation  of  any 
Dutch  poet  into  English  should  be  Vondel,  and 
that  the  particular  work  rendered  should  be  the 
"Lucifer,"    is,   from  the    preeminent    place  of 


INTRODUCTION: 

writer  and  poem  in  the  literature  of  the  Neth- 
erlands, altogether  apt. 

It  is  particularly  htting,  however,  that  such 
an  English  translation,  both  because  it  is  first 
and  because  it  is  Vondel,  should  be  put  forth, 
beyond  all  other  places,  from  this  old  Dutch 
city  of  New  York.  There  is  surely  more  than 
a  passing  interest  in  the  thought  that,  at  the 
time  of  the  appearance  of  Vondel's  "  Lucifer  " 
in  old  Amsterdam,  in  1654,  its  reading  public 
was  in  part  New  Amsterdam,  as  well.  Whether 
any  copy  of  the  book  ever  actually  found  its 
way  over  to  the  New  Netherlands  is  a  matter 
that  it  is  hardly  possible  now  to  determine;  but 
that  it  might  have  been  read  in  the  vernacular 
as  readily  here  as  at  home  is  a  fact  of  history. 
Only  two  years  after  the  publication  of  the 
"  Lucifer,"  that  is  in  1656,  Van  der  Donck,  as 
his  title  page  states,  "  at  the  time  in  New 
Netherland,"  printed  his  "  Beschryvinge  van 
Nieuw-Nederlant,"  in  which  occurs  the  familiar 
picture  of  "  Nieuw  Amsterdam  op  't  Eylant 
Manhattans,"  with  its  fort,  and  flagstaff,  and 
windmill,  its  long  row  of  little  Dutch  houses, 
and  its  gibbet  well  in  the  foreground  as  an  un- 
mistakable symbol  of  law  and  order. 

Strikingly  enough,  too,  during  the  lifetime  of 
Vondel  we  were  making  our  own  contributions 
to  Dutch  literature  ;  modest  they  certainly  may 


DR.  CARPENTER. 

have  been,  but  real  none  the  less.  Jacob  Steen- 
dam,  the  first  poet  of  New  York,  wrote  here  at 
least  one  of  his  poems,  the  "  Klagt  van  Nieuw- 
Amsterdam,"  printed  in  Holland  in  1659,  and 
from  this  same  period  are  the  occasional  verses 
of  those  other  Dutch  poets,  Henricus  Selyns, 
the  first  settled  minister  of  Brooklyn,  and  of 
Nicasius  de  Sille,  first  colonial  Councillor  of 
State  under  Governor  Stuyvesant.  Steendam, 
after  he  had  returned  from  these  shores  to  the 
Fatherland,  is  still  a  New  Netherlander  in  spirit, 
for  he  continued  to  sing  in  vigorous,  if  homely, 
verses  of  the  land  he  had  left,  which  in  his  long 
poems,  "  T  Lof  van  Nieuw-Nederland,"  and 
"  Prickel-Vaersen  "  he  paints  in  glowing  colors  : 

Nieuw-Nederland,  gy  edelste  Gewest 
Daar  d'Opperheer  (op  't  heerlijkst)  heeft  gevest 
De  Volheyt  van  zijn  gaven  ;  alder-best 

In  alle  Leden. 

Dit  is  het  Land,  daar  Melk  en  Honig  vloeyd  : 
Dit  is't  geweest,  daar  't  Kruyd  (als  dist'len)  groeyd  : 
Dit  is  de  Plaats,  daar  Arons-Roede  bloeyd  : 

Dit  is  het  Eden. 

A  translation  of  Vondel,  from  what  has  been 
said,  is,  accordingly,  in  a  certain  sense,  a  re- 
habilitation, a  restoration  to  a  former  status 
that  through  the  exigency  of  events  has  been 
lost.     While  this  may  be  considered  from  some 

23 


INTRODUCTION. 


points  of  view  but  a  curiosity  of  coincidence,  it 
is  in  reality,  as  has  been  assumed,  much  more 
than  that  :  it  is  a  pertinent  reminder  of  our  his- 
torical beginnings,  a  harking  back  to  the  cen- 
tury that  saw  our  birth  as  a  province  and  as  a 
city,  to  the  mother  country  and  to  the  mother 
tongue. 

Of  the  Hterature  of  Holland,  from  the  lack  of 
opportunity,  we  know  far  too  little.  The  trans- 
lation into  English  of  Vondel's  "Lucifer"  is 
not  only  in  and  for  itself  an  event  of  more  than 
ordinary  importance  in  literary  history,  but  it 
cannot  fail  to  awaken  among  us  a  curiosity  as 
to  what  else  of  supreme  value  maybe  contained 
in  Dutch  literature,  and  thereby,  in  effect,  form 
a  veritable  "open  sesame"  to  unlock  its  hidden 
treasures. 

Wm.  H.  Carpenter, 

Professor  of  Germanic  Philology, 

Columbia  University,  New  York. 
New  York,  April  \,  1898. 


I 


24 


Tntroductioit:  Dr.  K^lff. 


>HEN  Vondel,  in  1653,  finished  his 
"  Lucifer,"  he  stood,  notwith- 
standing his  sixty-six  laborious 
years,  with  undiminished  vigor 
upon  one  of  the  loftiest  peaks 
in  his  towering  career. 

A  long  road  lay  behind  him,  in  some  places 
rough  and  steep,  though  ever  tending  upwards. 
What  had  he  not  experienced,  what  had  he  not 
endured  since  that  day  in  1605  when  he  con- 
tributed a  few  faulty  strophes  to  a  wedding 
feast — the  first  product  of  his  art  of  which  we 
have  any  knowledge ! 

After  a  long  and  wearisome  war,  full  of  bril- 
liant feats  of  arms,  his  countrymen  had,  at 
length,  closed  a  treaty  full  of  glory  to  them- 
selves with   their  powerful  and  superior  adver- 


27 


INTRODUCTION: 

sary.  The  Republic  of  the  United  Netherlands 
had  taken  her  place  among  the  great  powers  of 
the  earth.  In  the  East  and  in  the  West  floated 
the  flag  of  Holland.  Over  far-distant  seas  glided 
the  shadows  of  Dutch  ships,  en  route  to  other 
lands,  bearing  supplies  to  satisfy  their  needs, 
or  speeding  homewards  freighted  with  riches. 

Prince  Maurice  was  dead.  Frederic  Henry 
and  William  H.  had  come  and  gone.  De  Witt, 
however,  guided  the  helm  of  the  ship  of  state; 
and  as  long  as  De  Ruyter  stood  on  the  quarter- 
deck of  his  invincible  "  Seven  Provinces  "  no 
reason  existed  to  inspire  an  Englishman  with  a 
"  Rule  Britannia." 

Knowledge  soared  on  daring  wings.  Art 
reigned  triumphant.  The  Stadhuis  at  Amster- 
dam was  nearing  completion.  Rembrandt's 
"  Night  Patrol  "  already  hung  in  the  great  hall 
of  the  Arquebusiers,  and  his  "  Syndics  of  the 
Cloth  Merchants"  was  soon  to  be  begun. 

Fulness  of  life,  growth  of  power,  and  the  ex- 
tension of  boundaries  were  everywhere  apparent. 
The  life  of  the  period  is  like  an  impressive 
pageant :  in  front,  proud  cavaliers,  in  high  sad- 
dles, on  their  prancing  steeds,  with  splendid 
colors  and  dazzling  weapons,  while  silk  banners 
gorgeously  embroidered  are  waving  aloft ;  in  the 
rear,  beautiful  triumphal  chariots  and  pictur- 
esque groups ;  around  stands  a  clamorous  mul- 

28 


DR.  KALFF. 

titude  that  for  one  moment  forgets  its  cares  in 
the  glow  of  that  splendor,  though  often  only 
kept  in  restraint  with  difficulty. 

In  the  midst  of  this  busy,  murmurous  scene, 
Vondel  with  steady  feet  pursued  his  own  way ; 
often,  indeed,  lending  his  ear  to  the  voices  with 
which  the  air  reverberated,  or  feasting  his  eyes 
upon  color  and  form  ;  often,  too,  lifting  his  voice 
for  attack  or  defence ;  though  still  more  often 
with  averted  glance,  and  lost  in  meditation, 
listening  to  the  voice  within. 

Life  had  not  left  him  untried.  In  many  a 
contest,  especially  in  his  struggles  against  the 
Calvinistic  clergy,  he  had  strengthened  his  belief 
on  many  a  doubtful  point,  developed  his  powers, 
and  sharpened  his  understanding. 

He  had  lost  two  lovely  children  ;  his  tenderly 
beloved  wife,  who  lived  for  him,  had  left  him 
alone ;  his  conversion  to  Catholicism  had  cost 
him  much  internal  strife,  and  had  brought  with 
it  the  loss  of  former  friends;  his  oldest  son, 
Joost,  had  plunged  him  into  financial  difficulties, 
which  resulted  in  ruin:  yet  beneath  all  this  his 
sturdy  strength  did  not  fail  him. 

The  fire  of  his  spirit,  not  suppressed  or  smoth- 
ered by  the  piled-up  fuel  of  early  learning,  but 
constantly  and  richly  fed  with  that  which  was 
best,  burned  with  a  fierce  flame,  ever  hungry  for 
new  food.     Treasures  of  art  and  knowledge  he 

29 


INTRODUCTION: 

had  gathered,  even  as  the  honey-bee  culls  her 
store  out  of  all  meadows  and  flowers ;  for 
towards  art  and  knowledge  his  heart  ever  in- 
clined— towards  those  muses  of  whom,  in  his 
"  Birthday  Clock  of  William  Van  Nassau,"  he 
said : 

"  For  whom  all  life  I  love  ;  and  without  whoin,  ah  me  ! 
The  glorious  majesty  of  sun  I  could  not  gladly  see." 

In  an  awe-inspiring  number  of  long  and  short 
poems,  he  had,  since  those  first  lame  verses, 
developed  his  art ;  he  had  taught  his  understand- 
ing to  make  use  of  life-like  forms  in  the  con- 
struction of  his  dramas;  his  feelings  he  had 
made  deeper  and  more  refined  ;  his  taste  he  had 
ennobled ;  his  self-restraint  he  had  increased  ;  his 
technique  he  had  made  perfect. 

Did  his  Bible  remain  the  fount  from  which 
he  preferred  to  draw  the  material  for  his  dramas, 
he  also  gladly  borrowed  his  motifs  from  the  past 
of  classical  antiquity,  and  from  the  every-day 
Netherland  life  around  him.  His  own  fiery 
belief  and  deep  convictions,  and  irrepressible 
desire  to  give  vent  to  them,  caused  the  person 
of  the  poet  to  be  seen  more  clearly  in  his 
characters  than  we  observe  to  be  the  case  in 
the  productions  of  his  masters,  the  classic 
tragedians. 

"  Palamedes"  is  a  tempestuous  defence  of  the 


DR.  KALFF. 

great  statesman  Oldenbarneveldt — a  defence  full 
of  intemperate  passion,  bitter  reproach,  and 
burning  satire.  How  fiercely  glows  there,  in 
each  word,  in  each  answer,  in  transparent  allu- 
sion and  in  scornful  irony,  the  fire  of  party 
spirit !  How  often,  too,  do  we  there  hear  the 
voice  of  the  poet  himself,  as  it  trembles  with 
tender  sympathy  or  with  lofty  indignation  ! 

"  Gysbrecht  van  Amstel,"  a  subject  dearer  to 
the  burghers  of  Amsterdam  than  most  others, 
is  illuminated  with  the  soft  glimmer  of  altar- 
candles  mingled  with  airy  incense.  That  same 
light,  that  same  perfume,  we  also  perceive  in 
"  Maeghden,"  "  Peter  en  Pauwels,"  and  "  Maria 
Stuart." 

The  Christ-like,  humble  thankfulness  of  a 
Dutch  burgher  falls  upon  our  ears  in  the 
"  Leeuwendaiers,"  that  charming  pastoral,  in 
which  the  wanton  play  of  whistling  pipe  and 
reed  is  constantly  relieved  by  the  silvery  pure 
tones  of  ringing  peace-bells. 

Does  the  history  of  the  development  of  the 
Vondelian  drama  teach  us  more  about  the  man 
Vondel,  it  also  most  clearly  shows  us  the  evolu- 
tion of  the  artist.  Especially  after  his  transla- 
tion of  "Hippolytus"  he  had  weaned  himself 
from  the  style  of  Seneca.  More  and  more  he 
became  filled  with  the  grandeur  of  the  Greek 
tragedians,  Sophocles  and  Euripides  above  all 

31 


INTRODUCTION: 

others.     ^Eschylus  he    had   not    yet   made   his 
own  ;  that  hour  was  not  yet  come. 

In  "  Gysbrecht  van  Amstel "  we  feel,  for  the 
first  time,  that  Vondel  acknowledges  the  Greeks 
as  his  masters,  that  he  strives  to  follow  them  in 
their  sublime  simplicity  ;  in  their  naturalness, 
that  never  degenerates  to  the  gross ;  in  their 
freedom  of  movement,  so  different  from  the  stiff- 
ness of  the  school  of  Seneca;  in  the  exquisitely 
delicate  manner  in  which  the  lyric  is  introduced 
into  the  drama.  In  "  Joseph  in  Dothan," 
"  Leeuwendalers,"  and  "  Salomon,"  we  behold 
the  poet  pursuing  the  same  path,  and  here  the 
influence  of  the  Greeks  is  still  more  perceptible. 

We  have  attempted  in  a  few  rapid  strokes  to 
give  a  brief  outline  of  the  time  in  which  the 
tragedy  "  Lucifer  "  had  its  origin,  and  also  of 
the  man,  the  poet,  who  created  it. 

When  Vondel  first  conceived  the  plan  of 
writing  this  tragedy  is  not  known.  However, 
it  is  well  known  that  this  subject  had  early 
made  an  impression  upon  him.  In  the  collec- 
tion of  prints  entitled  "  Gulden  Winkel  "  (1613), 
for  which  Vondel  wrote  the  accompanying 
mottoes,  we  already  find  the  Archangel  whom 
God  had  doomed  to  the  pit  of  hell.  In  the 
"  Brieven  der  Heilige  Maeghden  "  (1642),  and 
in  "  Henriette  Marie  t'Amsterdam  "  (1642),  we 
also  find  mention  of  the  revolt  of  the  Archangel. 

34 


DR.  KALFF. 

In  the  first-named  work  the  strife  between 
Michael  and  Lucifer,  with  their  legions,  is 
already  seen  in  prototype.  About  1650  he 
had  undoubtedly  resolved  upon  a  plan  to 
expand  this  subject  into  a  tragedy. 

Was  the  fallen  Archangel  for  a  long  period 
thus  ever  present  to  the  poet's  eye  ?  Did  that 
subject  so  enthrall  him  that,  at  last,  he  could 
no  longer  resist  the  impelling  desire  to  picture 
it  after  his  own  fashion  ?  For  the  causes  of  this 
interest  we  shall  not  have  far  to  seek. 

The  seventeenth  century  was,  more  than 
almost  any  other,  the  age  of  authority,  and 
"  Lucifer  "  is  the  tragedy  of  the  individual  in 
his  revolt  against  authority.  Vondel,  the 
Catholic  Christian,  to  whom  the  ruling  power 
was  holy — holy  because  it  came  from  God  ; 
Vondel,  the  Amsterdam  burgher,  reared  in  the 
fear  of  the  Lord,  and  full  of  reverence  for  those 
in  authority  as  long  as  his  conscience  approved  ; 
Vondel  must  thus  have  been  deeply  impressed 
by  the  thought  of  the  presumptuous  attempt 
of  the  Stadholder  of  God,  "  the  fairest  far  of 
all  things  ever  by  God  created,"  in  his  revolt 
against  the  "  Creator  of  his  glory."  Out  of  this 
deep  agitation  this  tragedy  was  born. 

Only  a  genius  such  as  that  of  Vondel  or 
Milton  could  bring  itself  to  undertake  so 
dubious  a  task — out  of  such  material  to  create  a 

33 


INTRODUCTION: 

poem  ;  only  the  highest  genius  could  succeed  in 
such  gigantic  attempt.  Only  such  a  poet  can 
translate  us  on  the  mighty  wings  of  his  imagi- 
nation into  the  portals  of  heaven ;  can  present 
to  us  angels  that  at  the  same  time  are  so  human 
that  we  can  put  ourselves  in  their  place,  but 
who,  nevertheless,  remain  for  us  a  higher  order 
of  beings ;  can  dare  to  bring  into  a  drama  a 
representation  of  God,  without  offending  His 
majesty. 

With  chaste  taste  the  poet  has  only  rapidly 
sketched  the  scene  of  the  drama;  by  means  of 
a  few  suggestive  strokes,  awaking  in  reader  and 
hearer  a  sympathetic  conception  :  an  illimitable 
spaciousness  radiant  with  light ;  an  eternal 
sunshine,  more  beautiful  than  that  of  earth, 
mirroring  itself  in  the  blue  crystalline,  above 
which  hover  hosts  of  celestial  angels  ;  here  and 
there  in  the  background,  the  dazzling  pediments, 
towers,  and  battlements  of  ethereal  palaces ; 
far  away,  upon  the  heights  beyond,  the  golden 
port,  from  which  God's  "  Herald  of  Mysteries  " 
came  down  into  view.  The  earth  lies  im- 
measurably far  below  ;  high,  high  above,  "So 
deep  in  boundless  realms  of  light,"  God  reigns 
upon  His  throne. 

In  that  endless  vast  live  and  move  the  inhabi- 
tants of  Heaven  in  tranquil  enjoyment.  "Grief 
never  nestled  'neath  those  joyful  eaves  "  until 

34 


DR.  KALFF. 

the  creation  of  man.  Pride  and  envy  now  awake 
in  the  breasts  of  the  angels,  and  their  suffering 
begins. 

Lucifer's  passionate  pride,  which  in  its  out- 
bursts occasionally  reminds  us  of  the  heroes  of 
Seneca;  his  dissimulation  in  the  conversation 
with  the  rebellious  angels ;  his  wretchedness 
when  Rafael  has  opened  his  eyes  to  an  appre- 
ciation of  his  position  ;  his  obstinate  resistance 
and  untamed  defiance — all  this  Vondel  has  por- 
trayed for  us  in  a  masterly  manner.  Belzebub, 
more  than  Lucifer,  is  the  real  genius  of  evil, 
"the  wicked  one.  He  is  this  in  his  inclination 
towards  subtle  mockery  and  sarcasm ;  in  his 
hypocrisy  ;  in  his  wily  use  of  Lucifer's  weakness 
to  incite  him  to  destruction  ;  in  the  art  with 
which  he,  while  himself  behind  the  curtain, 
directs  the  course  of  events. 

After  the  grand  overture  of  the  drama, 
wherein  men  and  angels  are  placed  over  against 
one  another,  we  see  how,  in  the  second  act, 
Lucifer  comes  on  the  scene,  mounted  on  his 
battle  chariot,  excited,  embittered  ;  and  then 
the  action  develops  itself  in  a  remarkably  even 
manner.  The  clouds  roll  together  ;  more  threat- 
eningly, more  heavily  they  impend  ;  the  light 
that  glows  from  the  towers  and  battlements  of 
Heaven  grows  tarnished  ;  the  seditious  angels 
gradually  lose   their    lustre ;    the    thunder   ap- 

35 


INTRODUCTION: 

preaches  with  dull  rumblings ;  one  moment  it 
is  stayed,  even  at  the  point  of  outbursting, 
where  Rafael,  "  oppressed  and  wan,"  throws 
himself  appealingly  on  Lucifer's  neck;  then  it 
precipitates  itself  in  a  terrible  storm  of  strife 
between  desperate  rage  and  the  powers  above. 
The  fall  of  man  is  the  sombre  afterpiece  of  this 
intensely  interesting  drama. 

All  of  this  is  discussed  in  verses  that  know 
not  their  equal  in  nobility  of  sound,  in  fulness 
and  purity  of  tone,  in  rapidity  of  change  from 
tenderness  to  strength,  in  wealth  of  coloring. 

Through  its  opulence  and  beauty  this  tragedy 
holds  a  unique  place  in  our  literature.  Only 
"  Adam  in  Ballingschap  "  can  be  placed  beside 
it.  Only  Vondel  can  with  Vondel  be  compared. 
If,  however,  one  should  compare  this  produc- 
tion with  the  best  that  has  been  produced  in 
this  kind  of  poetry  by  other  nations,  its  splen- 
dor remains  undimmed  ;  beside  the  masterpieces 
of  .^schylus,  Dante,  and  Milton,  Vondel's  main- 
tain an  equal  place. 

To  this  tragedy  and  to  other  works  of  Von- 
del and  of  some  of  our  other  poets  we  proudly 
point,  if  strangers  ask  us  in  regard  to  our  right 
to  a  place  in  the  world's  literature.  It  could, 
therefore,  not  be  otherwise  than  that  a  Neth- 
erlander who  loves  his  countrymen  should  be 
glad  when  the  bar  between  his  literature  and 

36 


DR.  KALFF. 

that  of  the  outside  world  is  raised;  when  other 
nations  are  furnished  occasion  to  admire  one  of 
our  national  treasures,  and  are  thereby  enabled 
to  have  a  better  knowledge  of  the  character  and 
the  significance  of  our  people. 

We  heartily  rejoice  over  the  fact  that  Von- 
del's  drama  has  been  translated  into  English  by 
an  American  for  Americans,  with  whom  we 
Netherlanders  have  from  time  immemorial 
been  on  a  friendly  footing.  We  rejoice,  too, 
that  this  rendering  into  a  language  which  is 
more  of  a  world  tongue  than  our  own  will  also 
give  to  Englishmen  an  opportunity  to  enjoy 
Vondel's  work. 

Were  this  translation  an  inferior  one,  or  were 
it  only  mediocre,  we  should  have  no  reason  to 
be  glad.  Then,  surely,  it  were  better  that  the 
translation  had  never  been  made ;  for  to  be 
unknown  is  better  than  to  be  misknovvn. 

But  in  this  case  it  is  otherwise.  Although 
no  translation  can  entirely  compensate  for  the 
lack  of  the  original,  it  is,  however,  possible  for 
the  original  to  be  followed  very  closely.  This 
is  well  shown  by  this  rendering,  which  to  a  high 
degree  possesses  the  merit  of  accuracy,  while, 
at  the  same  time,  the  spirit  and  the  character 
of  Vondel's  tragedy  are  felt,  understood,  and 
interpreted  in  a  remarkable  manner. 

Whoever  is  in  a  position,  by  the  comparison 

37 


138  ^; 


INTRODUCTION. 

of  the  translation  with  the  original,  to  form  an 
individual  opinion  of  Van  Noppen's  work,  will 
probably  be  convinced,  even  as  I  have  been, 
that  here  an  extraordinarily  difficult  task  has 
been  magnificently  done.  May  this  translation, 
therefore,  aid  in  the  spreading  of  Vondel's  fame. 
May  it  also  be  followed  by  many  another  equally 
admirable  rendering  of  the  poetry  and  prose  of 
the  Netherlands,  and  may  thereby,  further- 
more, the  bond  be  drawn  more  closely  between 
America  and  that  land  which  at  one  time 
possessed  the  opportunity  to  be  the  mother- 
country. 

G.  Kalff, 

Professor  of  Dutch  Literature, 

University  of  Utrecht. 

Utrecht,  Holland,  October  lo,  1897. 


38 


Uondel: 


fH%  Cift  iNd  times. 


"  Vondel !  thousand  thousand  voices 
Echo  answer — grandly  sing 
Praises  to  our  greatest  poet, 
Hailing  him  the  poets'  king." 

Dr.  Schaepman. 

THE   DUTCH    RENAISSANCE. 

ES,  truly,  it  is  a  great  thing  for  a  na- 
tion that  it  get  an  articulate  voice 
— that  it  produce  a  man  who  will 
speak  forth  melodiously  what  the 
heart  of  it  means." 
Profounder  truth,  that  keen  aphorist,  the 
Sage  of  Chelsea,  never  cast  into  heroic  mould. 

The  consciousness  of  a  great  literature  is  a 
grander  basis  for  national  exaltation  than  the 

41 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

possession  of  victorious  fleets  and  invincible 
battalions.  The  nation  whose  highest  aspira- 
tion and  most  glorious  impulse,  whose  noblest 
action  and  deepest  thought,  have  been  crystal- 
lized into  fadeless  beauty  by  the  soul  of  native 
genius,  has  surely  more  lasting  cause  for  pride 
than  she  whose  proudest  boast  is  a  superiority 
in  mere  material  achievement. 

The  everlasting  shall  always  have  precedence 
over  the  momentary  ;  the  time-serving  heroics 
of  to-day  are  the  laughter-compelling  traves- 
ties of  to-morrow ;  the  golden  colossus  of  one 
age  is  the  brazen  pigmy  of  the  next.  Beauty 
alone  is  unfading;  art  alone  is  eternal. 

"  All  passes:  art  alone 
Enduring  stays  to  us; 
The  bust  outlasts  the  throne  ; 
The  coin,  Tiberius. 

"  Even  the  gods  must  go  ; 
Only  the  lofty  rime, 
Not  countless  years  o'erflow. 
Not  long  array  of  time." 

Happy  the  country  blest  with  a  heritage  of 
noble  deeds !  Thrice  happy  she  whose  glory 
is  a  treasury  of  noble  words  !  Only  from  great 
actions  can  gigantic  thoughts  be  born. 

Nowhere  was  the  Revival  of  Learning  more 
joyfully  received  than  in  the  Netherlands.     At 

42 


OF  VONDEL. 

the  bidding  of  the  Renaissance,  the  monasteries, 
those  storehouses  of  the  knowledge  of  the  past, 
unlocked  their  precious  lore.  The  classics  were 
now  for  the  first  time  conscientiously  studied ; 
not  so  much  for  themselves,  as  to  shed  the 
light  of  the  past  upon  the  present,  to  furnish 
suggestions  for  new  discoveries. 

Erasmus  was  but  the  pioneer  of  a  host  of 
scholars  and  philosophers.  Thomas-a-Kempis 
was  but  the  forerunner  of  a  race  of  distinguished 
literati.  The  following  generation  also  studied 
the  moderns ;  and  the  wonderful  genius  of 
Italy,  as  well  as  the  brilliant  talent  of  France, 
now  lighted  up  the  dark  recesses  of  the  Cathe- 
dral of  Gothic  art. 

The  Reformation,  like  a  tiny  acorn,  first 
pierced  the  rich  mould  of  civil  life.  Then 
bursting  into  the  sunshine,  it  towered  into  the 
sky  of  religious  life  an  imperious  oak.  The 
dormant  energies  of  the  Low  Germans  were 
now  kindled  into  a  blaze  of  creative  activity. 
As  in  Italy,  this  first  revealed  itself  in  the  in- 
creased power  of  the  cities,  the  Tradesmen's 
Guilds,  the  Chambers  of  Rhetoric,  and  the 
growing  privileges  of  the  citizens;  for  example, 
the  burghers  of  Utrecht  and  of  Amsterdam. 
It  next  manifested  itself  in  the  Universities  and 
in  the  Church. 

Hand  in  hand  with  this  extraordinary  intel- 

43 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

lectual  development  went  the  sturdy  manli- 
ness of  a  vigorous  national  life.  It  was  the  era 
of  enterprise  and  adventure  ;  of  invention  and 
discovery.  Daring  was  the  spirit,  attainment 
the  achievement,  of  this  age — this  age  that 
dared  all. 

Proud  in  the  philosophy  wrested  from  experi- 
ence, the  race  sought  to  extend  its  intellectual 
empire  even  in  the  domain  of  transcendental- 
ism. Knowledge,  like  Prometheus,  bound  for 
centuries  to  the  gloomy  cliff  of  superstition, 
suddenly  rent  its  bonds  and  stood  forth  in  all 
of  its  tremendous  strength,  gigantic  and  un- 
shackled ;  a  god,  flaming  to  conquer  the  be- 
nighted realms  of  ignorance  !  Imagination,  like 
a  fire-plumed  steed,  preened  for  revelries, 
soared  to  the  stars,  and  roamed  unbridled 
through  the  boundless  deep  of  space. 

The  world  ran  riot  for  truth.  In  England, 
Italy,  France,  and  Spain,  as  well  as  in  Holland, 
arose  a  race  of  explorers  that  gave  to  the  earth 
another  hemisphere,  and  discovered  another 
solar  system  in  the  universe  of  thought. 

The  world  called  loud  for  blood.  Truth  was 
not  to  be  attained  without  sacrifice ;  freedom 
was  not  to  be  won  without  battle.  Universal 
struggle  was  to  precede  universal  achievement. 
A  whirlwind  of  death  now  swept  over  the  earth, 
leaving  in  its  wake  carnage  and  disaster.     The 

44 


OF  VONDEL. 

passions  of  men  burst  asunder  the  chains  of 
duty  and  religion,  and  swooped  on  the  nations 
with  desolating  rage. 

The  world  was  in  travail.  Hope  was  born, 
error  vanquished,  tyranny  dethroned.  The 
dawn  of  a  new  life  had  come.  The  night  was 
over.  The  sparks  of  war  became  the  seeds  of 
art.  The  Netherland  imagination  was  suddenly 
quickened  into  creative  rapture  by  the  contem- 
plation of  the  heroism  of  the  great  Orange  and 
the  founders  of  the  Republic. 

A  generation  of  fighters  is  always  the  pre- 
cursor of  an  epoch  of  singers.  The  panegyrist 
and  the  historian  ever  follovV  in  the  train  of  the 
soldier  and  the  statesman ;  the  epic  and  the 
eulogy  as  surely  in  the  path  of  great  deeds  as 
the  polemic  and  the  satire  in  the  track  of  wick- 
edness and  folly. 

The  sculptor  and  the  painter  are  evoked  from 
obscurity  only  by  the  call  of  heroes.  The  mu- 
sician and  the  poet — the  voice  of  the  ideal — 
stand  ever  ready  to  blazon  forth  the  glory  of 
the  real.     Unworthy  actions  alone  are  unsung. 

The  foundations  of  the  Dutch  Republic  had 
been  laid  by  a  race  of  Cyclops,  in  whose  battle- 
scarred  forehead  glowed  the  single  eye  of  free- 
dom. A  race  of  Titans  followed,  and  built  upon 
this  firm  foundation  a  magnificent  temple  of  art 
and  science,  above  whose  four  golden   portals 

45 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

were  emblazoned,  chiselled  in  "  deathless  dia- 
mond," the  names,  Vondel,  Rembrandt,  Grotius, 
and  Spinoza,  the  high-priests  of  its  worship. 

It  is  of  Vondel,  the  one  articulate  voice  of 
Holland,  whose  heart  ever  kept  time  with  the 
larger  pulse  of  his  nation,  that  we  would  now 
speak. 

CHILDHOOD    AND    YOUTH. 

Justus  van  den  Vondel  was  the  son  of  Dutch 
parents,  and  was  born  at  Cologne,  November 
17,  1587.  It  is  curious  to  note  that  above  the 
door  of  the  house  where  the  greatest  bard  of 
the  Low  Germans  first  saw  the  light  hung  the 
sign  of  a  viol,  a  maker  of  that  instrument  hav- 
ing at  one  time  lived  there.  The  poet  used  to 
point  to  this  fact  as  having  been  prophetic  of 
his  poetic  future  ;  and  it  was,  surely,  not  an 
uninspiring  coincidence. 

The  elder  Vondel  was  a  hatter,  and  had  fled 
to  Cologne  from  his  native  city,  Antwerp,  to 
escape  the  persecution  then  raging  against  the 
Anabaptists,  of  which  church  he  was  a  zealous 
and  devout  member. 

In  Cologne  he  had  courted  and  married  Sarah 
Kranen,  whose  father,  Peter  Kranen,  also  an 
Anabaptist,  had  likewise  been  driven  from  Ant- 
werp by  the  fury  of  the  Romanists.  Peter 
Kranen  was  not  without  reputation  in  his  na- 

46 


OF  VONDEL. 

tive  city  as  a  poet,  and  had  won  some  distinc- 
tion in  the  pubhc  contests  of  the  literary  guilds, 
of  one  of  which  he  was  a  shining  ornament.  So 
it  seems  that  our  poet  drank  in  the  divine 
afflatus,  as  it  were,  with  his  mother's  milk. 

It  is  related  that  Kranen's  wife,  being  preg- 
nant, was  unable  to  accompany  her  husband  in 
his  hurried  flight ;  and,  being  left  behind,  was 
confined  in  the  city  prison,  where  her  severe 
fright  prematurely  brought  on  the  crisis. 
Being  strongly  importuned  by  a  cousin  of  the 
young  woman,  who  was  required  to  furnish  se- 
curity for  her  re-appearance,  the  magistrates 
finally  permitted  her  to  complete  her  travail  at 
her  home. 

After  the  birth  of  her  child,  when  her  cousin 
again  delivered  her,  sorrowful  and  heavy  at 
heart,  into  the  custody  of  the  jailer,  he  whis- 
pered comfortingly  in  her  ear,  "  With  this  hand 
I  have  brought  you  here ;  but  with  the  other  I 
shall  take  you  away  again." 

The  time  of  her  execution  drew  nigh.  It 
was  intended  that  she  should  be  burnt  at  the 
stake  with  a  certain  preacher  of  her  sect. 
When  this  became  known,  the  cousin  went  to 
the  dignitaries  of  the  Church  and  asked  if,  in 
case  one  of  her  children  be  baptized  by  a  Catho- 
lic priest,  the  mother  would  have  a  chance  for 
her  life.     The  clergy,  ever  anxious  to  welcome 

47 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

an  addition  to  the  fold,  and  more  desirous  to 
save  a  soul  than  to  burn  a  body,  replied  that  it 
might  be  so  arranged. 

One  of  the  children,  a  daughter,  who  was 
already  with  the  father  at  Cologne,  was  then 
hastily  summoned.  Upon  her  arrival,  accord- 
ingly, she  was  baptized  after  the  manner  of  the 
Catholic  ritual,  and  received  into  the  Church, 

The  mother,  now  free,  hastened  to  the  arms 
of  her  joyful  spouse,  and  the  daughter  who 
thus  saved  her  mother's  life  afterwards  became 
the  mother  of  Vondel. 

So  even  Vondel's  Romanism,  of  which  much 
will  be  said  farther  on,  might  thus  be  consid- 
ered as  foreshadowed  and  inherited. 

The  year  of  Vondel's  birth  was  also  the  year 
of  the  execution  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  whose 
tragic  end  he  was  destined  to  celebrate.  Shakes- 
peare, the  most  illustrious  poet  of  the  heredi- 
tary enemies  of  Vondel's  countrymen,  was  just 
twenty-three  years  old,  and  had  already  been 
married  four  years  to  Anne  Hathaway.  William 
the  Silent,  "the  Father  of  his  Country,"  had 
only  three  years  before,  in  the  flower  of  his  age, 
been  cut  off  by  the  red  hand  of  the  assassin. 

The  early  childhood  of  the  poet  was  spent  at 
Cologne.  He  never  forgot  the  town  of'  his 
birth,  and,  after  the  manner  of  the  poets  of  an- 
tiquity, sang  its  glories  in  many  an  eloquent  rime. 

48 


OF  VONDEL. 

After  the  storm  of  persecution  had  spent 
its  fury,  the  Vondels  slowly  returned  by  way 
of  Bremen  and  Frankfort  to  the  Netherlands. 
They  rode  in  a  rustic  wagon,  across  which  were 
fastened  two  strong  sticks.  From  these  was  sus- 
pended a  cradle,  inwhich  lay  their  youngest  child. 
This  simplicity  and  their  modest  demeanor  and 
unaffected  piety  so  impressed  the  wagoner  that 
he  "Was  heard  to  say  :  "  It  is  just  as  if  I  were 
journeying  with  Joseph  and  Mary." 

The  family  first  stopped  at  Utrecht,  where  the 
young  "  Joost  "  went  to  school.  His  early  edu- 
cation, however,  was  very  meagre,  ending  with 
his  tenth  year ;  so  that  he  whose  attainments 
were  afterwards  the  admiration  of  his  scholarly 
contemporaries,  and  the  wonder  of  posterity, 
commenced  life  with  the  most  threadbare  equip- 
ment of  learning. 

Surely  the  plastic  imagination  of  the  boy  must 
have  been  wonderfully  impressed  by  the  grand- 
eur of  that  gigantic  Gothic  pile,  the  Utrecht 
Cathedral,  and  its  tremendous  campanile,  point- 
ing like  a  huge  index  finger  unerringly  to  God, 
and  towering  so  sublimely  above  the  beautiful 
old  town  and  the  fertile  meadows  all  around! 

In  1597  we  find  the  family  in  Amsterdam, 
of  which  flourishing  city  the  elder  Vondel  had 
recently  become  a  citizen,  and  where  he  had 
opened  a  hosiery  shop. 

49 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

This  business  must  have  proved  remunerative, 
as  one  of  his  younger  children,  his  son  William, 
afterwards  studied  law  at  Orleans,  and  then 
travelled  to  Rome,  where  he  applied  himself  to 
theology  and  letters,  a  course  of  study  which 
in  that  age,  even  more  than  to-day,  must  have 
been  beyond  the  means  of  even  the  ordinary 
well-to-do  citizen. 

Though  the  subject  of  our  sketch  was  not  so 
fortunate  in  this  respect  as  his  younger  brother, 
yet  he  made  good  use  of  his  opportunities;  and 
it  is  recorded  that,  even  before  he  had  reached 
his  teens,  his  rimes  attracted  considerable  atten- 
tion among  the  friends  of  the  family. 

When  only  thirteen  years  old,  we  find  his 
verses  complimented  as  showing  unusual  prom- 
ise. It  was  Peter  Cornelius  Hooft,  the  talented 
young  poet,  son  of  the  burgomaster  of  the  city, 
who  was  at  that  time  pursuing  a  course  of  study 
in  Italy,  who  incidentally  made  this  passing  ref- 
erence in  an  interesting  rimed  epistle  to  the 
Chamber  of  the  Eglantine  at  Amsterdam. 

This  Chamber  was  one  of  the  literary  guilds 
founded  in  imitation  of  the  French  Colleges  de 
Rhetoriqiie ;  and  it  played  so  important  a  part 
in  the  literary  history  of  the  city  and  in  the 
life  of  our  poet  that  we  ask  indulgence  if  an 
account  of  it  cause  what  may  seem  a  little 
digression. 

so 


OF  VONDEL. 

Under  the  rule  of  the  House  of  Burgundy, 
the  French  feeling  for  dramatic  poetry  had 
been  introduced  into  the  Netherlands.  This 
was  fostered,  not  only  by  the  exhibitions  of  the 
travelling  minstrels,  but  also  by  the  impressive 
and  often  gorgeous  Miracle  and  Mystery  Plays 
of  the  clergy.  In  the  wake  of  these  followed 
the  more  artistic  Morality  Plays.  These  alle- 
gorical representations  did  much  to  create  a 
purer  taste  and  to  waken  a  greater  demand  for 
the  drama. 

The  people  suddenly  began  to  take  unusual 
interest  in  declamation  and  in  dramatic  exhibi- 
tions ;  and  Chambers  of  Rhetoric,  for  the  indul- 
gence of  this  new  taste,  were  soon  established 
in  all  of  the  prominent  cities  of  the  country. 

These  societies  also  began  sedulously  to  culti- 
vate rhetorica,  or  literature,  and  soon  became 
nothing  less  than  an  association  of  literary 
guilds,  bound  together  in  a  sort  of  social  Han- 
seatic  league,  designed  for  their  own  defence 
and  for  the  fostering  of  their  beloved  art. 

Each  was  distinguished  by  some  device,  and 
usually  bore  the  name  of  some  flower.  They 
were  wont  also  to  compete  against  each  other 
in  rhetorical  contests  called  "  land-jewels,"  to 
which  they  would  march,  costumed  in  glorious 
masquerade,  and  to  the  sound  of  pealing  trump- 
ets and  of  shrill,  melodious  airs. 

SI 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

As  was  natural,  the  follies  of  the  Church  were 
too  tempting  a  subject  for  these  Chambers  to 
resist ;  and  many  of  them,  long  before  the 
thundering  polemics  of  Luther  were  heard,  had 
dramatized  a  stinging  satire  on  the  clergy,  re- 
vealing their  vices  in  all  of  their  hideous  coarse- 
ness, and  making  their  follies  the  butt  of  their 
unsparing  mockery. 

When  the  Reformation,  therefore,  trumped 
her  battle-cry,  there  throbbed  a  responsive  echo 
in  the  hearts  of  the  Netherlanders,  long  dis- 
gusted, as  they  were,  with  the  excesses  of  a 
dissolute  priesthood. 

These  societies,  therefore,  exerted  no  little 
influence  on  the  social,  religious,  and  intellectual 
life  of  the  country,  and  became  a  powerful  aid 
to  the  awakening  of  a  national  consciousness 
and  to  the  up-building  of  the  language  and  the 
literature. 

Among  them  all,  no  other  attained  the  dis- 
tinction of  the  Chamber  of  the  Eglantine  at 
Amsterdam.  This  Chamber,  whose  device  was 
"  Blossoming  in  Love,"  was  founded  by  Charles 
v.,  and  to  it  belonged  many  of  the  most  promi- 
nent citizens  of  that  opulent  city.  All  religious 
discussions  were  forbidden  within  its  walls;  and 
there,  in  that  age  of  religious  discord  and  rabid 
intolerance,  both  Catholic  and  Protestant  met 
together  in  the  worship  of  Apollo,     It  was  to 

5.2 


OF  VONDEL. 

this  honored  body  that  the  name  of  the  young 
Vondel  was  introduced,  and  upon  him,  there- 
fore, its  members  kept  an  attentive  eye. 

We  next  hear  of  Vondel  as  a  youth  of  seven- 
teen. He  had,  it  seems,  all  the  while  been 
assisting  his  father  in  the  cares  of  the  little 
hosiery  shop  ;  but  his  mind  was  with  his  books, 
and  he  employed  every  spare  moment  in  read- 
ing or  in  study. 

About  this  period  a  friend  of  the  family  was 
married,  and  the  young  poet  must  needs  try  his 
wings.  Accordingly,  he  wrote  an  epithalamium, 
which,  unfortunately  for  the  poet,  still  survives. 
As  might  have  been  expected,  the  too-aspiring 
youth  soared  on  Icarian  wings.  However,  he 
was  not  conscious  of  this  at  the  time ;  and  lame 
and  faulty  as  these  first  efforts  are,  it  may  yet 
be  surmised  that  he  felt  the  thrill  of  inspiration 
and  the  rapture  of  creating  no  less  than 
when,  in  later  life,  he  forged  those  Olympian 
thunderbolts  that  fulmined  over  Holland, 
causing  tyrants  to  shake  and  multitudes  to 
tremble. 

Soon  after  the  wedding-verses,  Vondel  wrote 
a  threnody  on  the  assassination  of  Henry  IV. 
of  France,  which  was  but  little  better  than  his 
former  effort. 

We  hear  no  more  of  our  young  poet  till,  like 
the  deer-stealing  youth,  Shakespeare,  he  stands, 

53 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

in  his  young  and  vigorous  manhood,  blushing 
at  the  altar.  Maria  de  Wolff  was  the  name  of 
the  bride  that  the  twenty-three-year-old  hus- 
band had  won  to  share  his  destiny. 

History  does  not  record  the  circumstances 
nor  the  incidents  of  his  wooing;  but  from  what 
we  know  of  his  character,  we  will  venture  to  say 
that  it  was  ardently  done. 

Of  the  sonnets  and  the  love-verses  that  this 
passion  must  have  inspired  in  the  soul  of  the 
young  poet  nothing,  unfortunately,  seems  to 
be  known.  He  who  had,  as  a  boy,  written 
tolerable  verses  at  the  marriage  of  another 
must  surely,  as  a  man,  have  done  something 
better  at  his  own. 

"All  the  world  loves  a  lover,"  be  he  ever  so 
humble.  But  the  loves  of  the  poets  are  of 
especial  interest^ 

We  therefore  confess  our  disappointment  that 
no  record  exists  wherein  we  could  see  the  poet 
in  the  sweet  throes  of  that  heart-consuming 
passion.  But,  for  all  that,  we  feel  that  he  loved 
like  a  poet,  and  we  know  that  his  marriage 
proved  to  be  a  most  happy  one. 

His  wife  was  in  full  sympathy  with  his  every 
thought  and  aspiration,  and  wisely  left  her  star- 
gazing husband  to  write  verses  while  she  stayed 
behind  the  counter  and  sold  stockings.  She 
was  the  daughter  of   a   prosperous  linen-mer- 

54 


OF  VONDEL. 

cliant    of   Cologne,    and    was   fortunately  of   a 
practical  turn  of  mind. 

Thus,  when  Vondel  succeeded  to  the  business 
of  his  father,  she  took  upon  herself  not  only  the 
management  of  the  shop,  but  attended  to  the 
house-keeping  as  well. 

ASPIRATION. 

In  1612  appeared  Vondel's  first  drama,  "The 
Passover."  It  was  the  first  of  that  splendid  series 
of  Bible  tragedies  to  which,  in  the  field  of  the 
sacred  drama,  neither  ancient  nor  modern  times 
furnish  a  parallel.  This  play,  which  covertly 
celebrated  the  recent  escape  of  the  Holland- 
ers from  the  yoke  of  Spain,  was  played  in 
the  Brabantian  Chamber  of  the  Lavender,  to 
which  Vondel,  whose  family  came  from  Bra- 
bant, naturally  belonged. 

This  poem  showed  the  results  of  his  years  of 
study,  and  was  far  superior  to  his  earlier  efforts. 
Indeed,  it  gave  such  promise  that  Vondel  was 
immediately  invited  to  become  a  member  of 
the  Chamber  of  the  Eglantine,  and  thus  at 
once  stood  on  an  equality  with  the  most  dis- 
tinguished literati  of  the  day. 

Among  these  was  Roemer  Visscher,  "  the 
round  Roemer,"  as  he  was  known  among  his 
intimates.     Visscher  was  celebrated  for  his  epi- 

5S 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

grams,  and  was  called  "  the  Dutch  Martial." 
He  was  a  good  type  of  the  Dutch  merchant  of 
his  time,  and  on  account  of  his  wit  and  jollity 
was  very  popular  with  the  other  members  of 
the  society. 

With  his  friends  Coornhert  and  Spieghel  he 
had  taken  upon  himself  the  serious  task  of  puri- 
fying and  enriching  his  native  tongue. 

And  it  is  in  the  works  of  these  three  men, 
who  at  this  time  were  all  well  advanced  in  years, 
that  we  first  see  the  promise  of  a  literature 
and  the  consciousness  of  a  national  destiny. 

The  stilted  and  artificial  phraseology  of  the 
Rhetoricians  was  soon  succeeded  by  a  natural, 
flowing  style.  Originality  once  more  asserted 
its  right  to  a  hearing.  Nature  was  studied  with 
enthusiastic  contemplation.  Art  was  once 
more  set  on  her  high  pedestal  and  worshipped. 

Visscher  looked  with  a  philosophic  eye  on 
the  follies  of  the  day,  and  his  keenest  epigrams 
were  pointed  with  a  honied  humor  that  deprived 
them  of  their  sharpest  sting. 
/  But  it  was  more  as  a  patron  of  letters  than 
as  a  poet 'that  he  deserves  to  be  remembered. 
At  his  house  all  of  the  young  Bohemians  of 
the  day  were  wont  to  gather,  and  many  the 
contests  of  wit  and  many  the  battles  in  verse 
that  took  place  in  this,  the  first  literary  salon 
of  the  Netherlands. 

56 


OF  VONDEL. 

But  there  was  another  attraction  at  the  house 
of  this  worthy  burgher.  The  jovial  Roemer  had 
two  daughters,  the  blooming  but  sober  Anna 
and  the  beautiful  and  vivacious  Tesselschade. 

These  young  women,  on  account  of  their 
many  personal  charms  and  numerous  accom- 
plishments, furnished  a  glowing  theme  to  a 
generation  of  poets.  It  is  related  that  they 
could  each  play  sweetly  on  several  instruments, 
sing,  paint,  engrave  on  glass,  cut  emblems,  em- 
broider, and  converse  brilliantly. 

They  were  by  no  means  prigs,  however,  for 
they  also  excelled  in  healthful  bodily  exercise, 
as  swimming,  rowing,  and  skating;  and  they 
were  no  less  discreet  and  modest  than  accom- 
plished and  refined.  Nor  must  it  be  forgotten 
that  they  themselves  also  wrote  verses  full  of 
sweetness  and  tenderness  ;  verses,  too,  not  with- 
out lofty  and  noble  sentiment,  that  are  yet 
treasured  among  the  brightest  gems  in  Holland's 
diadem  of  song. 

It  was  into  this  charming  patrician  circle  that 
our  middle-class  poet  was  now  introduced,  and 
he  manfully  continued  his  attempts  to  remedy 
the  defects  in  his  education,  that  he  might  meet 
the  many  talented  and  learned  men  who  came 
there,  on  an  equal  footing. 

Vondel  was  now  twenty-six  years  old,  and 
began  to  apply  himself  assiduously  to  the  study 

57 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

of  the  languages.  He  took  lessons  in  Latin  from 
an  Englishman,  and  through  his  great  industry- 
he  was  soon  able  to  read  Virgil  and  Ovid.  He 
also  began  the  study  of  French,  and  translated 
"  The  Glory  of  Solomon  "  of  Du  Bartas,  which 
he  considered  a  most  admirable  poem.  About 
the  same  time  he  wrote  his  second  tragedy,  the 
"  Jerusalem  Desolate,"  which,  on  account  of  its 
severe  simplicity  and  elevated  style,  was  the 
theme  of  much  favorable  comment. 

At  the  house  of  the  Visschers,  Vondel  was 
wont  to  meet,  on  terms  of  easy  comradery, 
among  other  rising  young  men  of  the  day,  the 
erratic  but  brilliant  Gerard  Brederoo,  the  great- 
est writer  of  comedies  that  Holland  has  ever 
produced. 

Brederoo  was  the  son  of  a  poor  shoemaker  of 
Amsterdam,  and  on  account  of  his  extraor- 
dinary talents  was  eagerly  welcomed  into  the 
most  select  circles. 

Quite  a  contrast  was  the  young  aristocrat, 
Peter  Cornelius  Hooft,  of  whom  we  have  al- 
ready spoken.  Hooft  was  a  patrician  of  the 
patricians,  and  was  the  most  accomplished  and 
elegant  man  of  his  day,  the  first  gentleman  of 
his  age. 

He  had  already  distinguished  himself  by  sev- 
eral remarkable  poems,  a  superb  pastoral,  and 
one  or  two  powerful  tragedies. 

58 


OF  VONDEL. 

It  was  in  the  field  of  history  and  biography, 
however,  that  he  was  to  win  his  greenest  laurels. 
His  history  of  the  Netherlands  and  his  biog- 
raphy of  Henry  IV.  of  France,  written  in  a 
terse,  forcible,  epigrammatic  style,  have  gained 
for  him  the  appellation  of  the  "  Dutch  Tacitus." 
Motley  calls  him  one  of  the  great  historians  of 
the  world. 

Then  there  was  Jan  Starter,  the  son  of  an 
English  Brownist,  who  was  destined  to  be  one 
of  the  sweetest  lyrists  of  his  adopted  country  ; 
and  Laurens  Reael,  another  scion  of  aristocracy, 
a  handsome  young  man  of  some  poetic  power 
and  considerable  learning,  fated  to  become  the 
friend  of  the  great  Oldenbarneveldt,  and,  after 
a  splendid  career  as  a  soldier,  the  governor- 
general  of  the  Dutch  East  Indies. 

Another  visitor  to  this  hospitable  house  was 
Dr.  Samuel  Coster,  a  dramatist  of  no  mean  abil- 
ity, who  is  now  chiefly  remembered  as  the 
founder  of  Coster's  Academy,  an  institution 
founded  in  imitation  of  the  Accademia  della 
Crusca  of  Florence. 

Anna  and  Tesselschade  were,  of  course,  the 
centre  of  this  constellation  of  literary  stars,  and 
few  of  the  young  men  who  met  at  their  home 
left  it  with  heart  unscorched  by  the  fierce  blaze 
of  love.  Vondel  was  already  married  ;  but  to 
the  passion  that  these  two  beautiful  women  ex- 

59 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

cited  in  most  of  the  others,  Dutch  literature 
owes  its  most  exquisite  love  lyrics. 

The  ardent  Hooft  wooed  the  staid  Anna  only 
to  be  rejected.  However,  the  young  knight 
sought  and  soon  obtained  consolation  elsewhere. 
Brederoo,  with  all  the  fervor  of  his  romantic 
nature,  poured  out  his  soul  in  a  cycle  of  burn- 
ing love  poems  at  the  feet  of  the  golden-haired 
and  dark-eyed  Tesselschade.  To  her,  too,  he 
dedicated  his  tragedy  "  Lucelle,"  calling  the 
object  of  his  adoration  "  the  honor  of  our  city, 
the  glory  of  our  age." 

Few  women  in  any  epoch  have  exerted  such 
wonderful  influence  upon  the  literature  of  their 
time.  Not  a  poet  of  the  day  who  was  not  in- 
spired by  their  beauty  and  character  ;  not  one, 
furthermore,  who  did  not  dedicate  to  them 
some  production  of  his  genius.  And  yet  they 
do  not  seem  to  have  been  the  least  spoiled  by 
such  excessive  notice.  Their  good  sense  and 
modesty  only  heightened  the  excellent  im- 
pression excited  by  their  beauty  and  their 
talents. 

How  incomplete  a  sketch  of  Vondel's  life 
and  age  would  be  without  a  more  than  passing 
reference  to  these  accomplished  sisters  will  be 
better  appreciated  when  we  see  the  poet  him- 
self paying  court  to  one  of  them,  charmed  not 
only  into  a  passion  of  the  heart,  but   also  into 


OF  VONDEL. 

taking  a  step  which  exerted  a  powerful  influ- 
ence on  his  life  and  works. 

At  the  Visschers',  in  the  circle  of  his  friends, 
the  aspiring  poet  was  wont  to  read  the  latest 
effusions  of  his  pen  ;  that  he  was  much  benefited 
by  the  criticism  to  which  his  verses  were  there 
subjected  cannot  be  doubted. 

His  friendship  with  the  most  noted  men  of 
the  day  warmed  his  ambition  into  a  fever  of 
aspiration,  and,  like  Milton,  he  early  determined 
to  devote  his  whole  life  to  the  cultivation  of 
his  beloved  art. 

With  the  aid  of  Hooft  and  Reael  he  trans- 
lated the  "  Troades  "  of  Seneca,  which  he  then 
sublimated  into  a  tragedy  of  his  own,  the 
"  Hecuba  of  Amsterdam."  This  evoked  con- 
siderable praise  from  the  critics  of  the  day. 
At  this  time,  also,  he  showed  his  advancement 
in  technique  and  his  improvement  in  style  by 
several  lyrics  of  extraordinary  merit. 

It  was  thus  in  the  midst  of  an  admiring  cir- 
cle of  distinguished  friends  that  we  find  Vondel 
cultivating  his  art.  There,  in  the  bosom  of  that 
Catholic  family,  the  Visschers,  the  poets  of 
that  age  found  rest  from  the  storm  of  religious 
discord  that  raged  without. 

Arminian  and  Gomarist,  Remonstrant  and 
Contra-Remonstrant,  were  waging  that  fierce 
battle  of  the  creeds  that  is  yet  the  foulest  blot 

6i 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

upon  the  fair  name  of  the  heroic  and  tolerant 
Republic. 

Thus  the  Visscher  mansion  was  the  temple 
of  the  Muses,  where  beauty  alone  was  wor- 
shipped. Religion  was  left  by  the  visitor  at  the 
threshold.  Art  alone  was  the  garment  that 
gave  admittance  to  this  wedding-feast  of  poetry 
and  philosophy. 

''STORM   AND    STRESS." 

Whether  through  the  contemplation  of  the 
fierce  dissensions  that  then  raged  in  the  little 
Republic,  or  through  a  natural  melancholy  of 
temperament,  Vondel  now  became  subject  to 
the  most  distressing  depression. 

Occasionally  he  would  flash  from  his  gloom 
into  one  of  those  firebrands  of  invective  that, 
thrown  into  the  ranks  of  his  enemies,  created 
a  blaze  of  discord  from  one  end  of  the  coun- 
try to  the  other  ;  occasionally,  also,  he  was  in- 
spired for  loftier  themes,  as  his  "  Ode  to  St. 
Agnes,"  which  first  showed  his  tendency  to- 
wards Catholicism. 

Then  he  would  relapse  into  his  melancholy. 
He  lost  his  appetite  and  became  afflicted  with 
various  bodily  ills.  He  seemed  hastening  into 
a  decline.  This  lasted  several  years,  during 
which   several    important    changes   had    taken 

62 


1 


OF  VONDEL. 

place,  not   only  among  his  friends,  but  also  in 
the  ruling  powers  of  the  state. 

On  the  13th  of  May,  1618,  John  van  01den> 
barneveldt,  the  aged  Advocate  of  the  States- 
General,  the  greatest  statesman  of  his  time,  and 
the  fiery  patriot  upon  whom  had  fallen  the 
sacred  mantle  of  William  the  Silent,  was  be- 
headed. He  had  watched  the  destinies  of  the 
infant  Republic  with  the  tender  solicitude  of  a 
loving  shepherd  ;  he  was  now  devoured  by  the 
wolves  who,  in  the  guise  of  religion  and  of 
patriotism,  had  crept  into  the  fold.  He  had 
given  eighty  years  of  devotion  to  the  upbuild- 
ing of  his  country;  he  was  now  to  seal  that 
devotion  with  his  blood.  He  had  made  his 
native  land  a  theme  of  glory  among  the  nations 
of  the  earth ;  he  was  now  accused  of  selling 
that  glory  for  the  gold  which  he  had  always 
despised. 

A  thankless  generation  had,  under  the  cloak 
of  virtue,  committed  one  of  the  most  infamous 
and  revolting  crimes  in  human  annals.  Where 
shall  we  find  a  parallel  ?  The  gray  hairs  of  the 
man,  his  learning,  his  ability,  his  unsullied  life, 
his  splendid  achievements  in  behalf  of  his  na- 
tive land,  his  grand  renown,  his  unselfish  devo- 
tion, his  patriotism — all  this  must  be  considered 
when  we  compare  his  sad  end  with  the  fate  of 
the  other  political  martyrs  of  history,  too  many 

63 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

of  whom  have  been  unduly  exalted  by  the  man- 
ner of  their  death. 

Is  it  to  be  wondered  at  that  such  an  impor- 
tant event  caused  the  deep-thinking  poet  the 
revulsion  that  only  comes  to  high-born  souls  ? 

Is  it  surprising,  furthermore,  that  that  revul- 
sion found  its  expression  in  what  is  perhaps  the 
finest  satirical  drama  of  modern  times? 

This  period  was  the  crisis  in  our  poet's  life. 
The  Contra-Remonstrants,  or  Gomarists,  as 
the  extreme  Calvinists  were  called,  having  dis- 
posed of  their  hated  enemy  Oldenbarneveldt, 
had  now  begun  to  play  havoc  with  the  liberties 
of  the  people.  Art  and  literature  next  suffered 
through  the  blasting  censorship  of  their  fanati- 
cal clergy. 

The  religious  tolerance  that  had  formed  the 
glory  of  the  country  only  a  decade  before  was 
now  succeeded  by  a  rabid  bigotry  that  with  in- 
sensate fury  cut  at  the  vitals  of  all  that  was 
healthful  and  inspiring.  Life,  property,  and 
freedom  were  in  peril.     Nothing  was  safe. 

Grotius,  "  the  father  of  international  law," 
and  also  so  distinguished  as  a  scholar  that  he 
was  called  the  "wonder  of  the  age,"  was  impris- 
oned, with  the  fate  of  his  friend  the  great  Ad- 
vocate staring  him  in  the  face.  From  this  fate, 
moreover,  he  was  only  saved  by  the  diplomatic 
ingenuity  of  his  devoted  wife,  who  aided  him  to 

64 


OF  VONDEL. 

escape  from  his  prison  at  Loevestein,  ensconced 
in  an  empty  book-chest  which  the  unsuspect- 
ing warden  of  the  castle  thought  full  of  books. 
Others  of  note  were  in  hiding  or  in  exile. 

The  boasted  freedom  of  the  freed  Nether- 
lands  had  turned  to  the  direst  form  of  oppres- 
sion— the  tyranny  of  a  religious  oligarchy. 

And  yet  it  was  not  an  easy  victory  for  the 
Contra-Remonstrants.  Every  inch  was  bitterly 
contested  by  their  foes  in  Christ,  the  moderate 
Calvinists,  or  Remonstrants. 

This  struggle,  like  the  conflicts  of  the  Floren- 
tine factions  of  the  Guelfs  and  Ghibellines, 
divided  the  country  into  two  hostile  camps. 
Even  those  of  other  religions  allied  themselves 
with  the  one  or  other  of  these  sects  ;  for  sect 
had  now  come  to  mean  party.  Vondel,  with 
whom  religion  and  patriotism  were  fused  into 
one  white  heat,  was  not  long  in  choosing  the 
party  of  the  Remonstrants — the  side  of  freedom. 

We  shall  hereafter  view  this  remarkable  man 
as  the  poet  militant.  For  having  once  taken 
the  sword  in  hand,  he  did  not  let  it  fall  until 
his  arm  was  palsied  by  death. 

Much  as  he  loved  peace,  his  enemies  hereaf- 
ter took  good  care  that  he  should  never  want 
occasion  to  defend  himself.  It  must  be  added, 
however,  that  the  poet  was  even  more  renowned 
for  attack  than  for  defence.     He  was  ever  at  the 

65 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

head  of  the  onset,  ever  in  the  thickest  of  th( 
fray. 

The  sword  of  this  crusader  for  the  hberties  of 
his  country — -the  most  formidable  and  dreaded 
weapon  of  the  age — was  a  pen  ;  and  the  pro- 
duction that  fell  like  a  bombshell  into  the  Go- 
marist  camp  was  the  allegorical  tragedy  of 
"  Palamedes,  or  Murdered  Innocence." 

Under  cover  of  the  ancient  legend  of  Pala- 
medes, which  lent  itself  most  readily  to  such 
analogy,  he  had  portrayed  the  murder  of  the 
old  Advocate,  and  painted  his  judges  in  such 
strong  colors  and  with  such  accurate  delineation 
that  each  was  recognized,  and  forever  invested 
with  the  shame  and  infamy  he  so  richly  merited.  , 

The  greatest  excitement  prevailed,  and  the 
first  edition  of  the  poem  was  sold  in  a  few 
days.  The  Goliath  of  error,  slain  by  the  pebble 
of  satire,  lay  on  the  ground,  gasping  in  agony. 
The  David  who  had  with  one  swift  arm-swing 
of  thought  accomplished  this  wonderful  feat, 
suddenly  found  himself  the  most  famous  man  in 
both  camps. 

In  the  meantime  the  party  in  power  sought 
to  repress  the  book ;  and  as  the  poet  was 
thought  to  be  in  danger  of  imprisonment,  or  of 
even  a  more  tragic  fate,  he  was  advised  by  his 
friends  to  go  into  hiding,  which  he  did. 

Threats  were  made  against  the  man  who  had 

66 


OF  VONDEL. 

so  rashly  dared  the  fury  of  those  relentless 
iconoclasts — the  reigning  Gomarists.  It  was 
muttered  that  he  ought  to  be  taken  to  The 
Hague  to  be  tried,  even  as  Oldenbarneveldt. 

Meanwhile  Vondel  was  concealed  at  the  house 
of  Hans  de  Wolff,  a  brother  of  his  wife, 
who  was  also  married  to  his  sister  dementia. 
They  were,  however,  afraid  to  harbor  him  any 
longer;  and  his  sister,  it  is  said,  upbraided  him 
for  his  itch  for  writing,  saying  that  no  good 
could  come  of  it,  and  that  it  would  be  better  for 
him  to  attend  more  strictly  to  his  business. 

Vondel's  only  reply  was,  "  I  shall  yet  tell 
them  sharper  truths ;  "  and  he  straightway  sat  • 
down  and  wrote  some  cutting  pasquinades. 
These,  however,  upon  his  sister's  advice,  he 
threw  into  the  fire,  which  he  afterwards  re- 
gretted. 

He  next  found  shelter  in  the  house  of  a 
friend,  Laurens  Baake,  who  received  him  gladly. 
Here  he  was  hidden  several  days ;  and  the  sons 
and  daughters  of  his  host,  being  highly  culti- 
vated and  exceedingly  fond  of  poetry,  were 
much  pleased  with  the  society  of  so  distin- 
guished a  poet,  and  for  him  made  things  as 
comfortable  as  possible.  Vondel  ever  proved 
grateful  for  the  many  favors  received  at  their 
hands  in  the  hour  of  his  need. 

His  hiding-place  was  at  last  discovered,  and 

67 


n 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

he  was  brought  before  the  court.  The  plea 
made  by  his  lawyer  in  his  behalf  was  that  the 
play  "  was  poet's  work  and  could  be  otherwise 
interpreted  than  was  commonly  done." 

Some  of  the  judges  expressed  themselves 
very  severely  ;  and  if  their  counsel  had  prevailed 
there  is  no  doubt  but  that  the  poet's  career 
would  have  ended  with  the  "  Palamedes."  How- 
ever, the  old  Batavian  spirit  also  asserted  itself, 
others  saying  that  civil  liberty  was  but  a  mock- 
ery when  a  man  was  no  longer  allowed  the 
freedom  of  speech.  The  result  of  the  trial  was 
that  Vondel  was  fined  three  hundred  guldens, 
which  was  paid  by  a  friend — indeed,  by  one  of 
the  judges  themselves— who  was  secretly  favora- 
ble to  Vondel  and  his  party,  and  had  encour- 
aged the  poet  to  write  this  very  drama.  We 
are    here    reminded  of   the    fate    of   the    ^reat 

o 

Florentine.  Dante,  a  patriot,  yet  an  exile,  ac- 
cused of  treason,  and  under  sentence  of  death  : 
Vondel,  forced  to  flee  from  an  oligarchy  of 
unctuous  hypocrites,  in  fear  of  his  life,  and 
arraigned  as  a  fomenter  of  discord.  The  ideas 
of  the  great  Hollander  on  government,  and  on 
politics  also,  were  not  unlike  the  ideal  Ghibel- 
linism  of  the  illustrious  Tuscan. 

Of  course,  the  very  nature  of  the  play  made 
it  popular,  and  the  various  attempts  at  its  sup- 
pression only  made  it  more  so.     Two  other  edi- 

68 


OF  VONDEL. 

tions  shortly  followed.  Within  a  few  years 
thirty  editions  were  sold.  ''  Nitinmr  in  vetitiun 
semper  cupimiisqiie  negatay 

Prince  Maurice,  the  Stadholder.  whose  pow- 
erful personality  on  account  of  his  share  in  the 
death  of  the  Advocate  was  also  severely  handled 
by  the  poet,  died  while  Vondel  was  giving  the 
finishing  touches  to  his  drama.  Long  years 
afterwards,  when  the  poet  was  an  old  man,  he 
was  wont  to  relate  how  on  the  very  morning 
that  the  news  came  to  Amsterdam  from  The 
Hague  that  the  Stadholder  was  on  his  death- 
bed, his  wife  came  to  the  foot  of  the  stairs  that 
led  to  the  room  where  he  was  writing,  and  cried, 
"  Husband,  the  Prince  is  dying  !  " 

To  which  he  replied  : 

"  Let  him  die  !  I  am  already  tolling  his  knell." 

Frederic  Henry,  who  was  the  next  Stad- 
holder, was  known  to  be  at  heart  in  favor  of  the 
Remonstrants. 

It  was  reported  that  the  whole  tragedy  was 
read  to  him  in  his  palace,  and  that  he  was  ex- 
ceedingly pleased  with  it,  finding  much  of  in- 
terest in  the  various  episodes.  Strange  to  say, 
upon  the  walls  of  the  room  where  he  heard  the 
drama  hung  a  piece  of  tapestry  upon  which 
the  history  of  the  Greek  Palamedes  was  artis- 
tically pictured.  Pointing  to  this,  the  Prince 
said  mockingly,  "  This  tapestry  should  be  taken 

69 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

away,  otherwise  they  might  suppose  that  I  also 
favor  the  cause  of  Palamedes." 

Apart  from  its  influence  on  the  time,  and  the 
interest  of  its  allegorical  allusions,  the  "  Pala- 
medes "  is  a  splendid  tragedy,  and  its  intrinsic 
worth  alone  would  make  it  immortal.  One  of 
the  choruses,  especially,  is  justly  celebrated  for 
its  idyllic  beauty.  It  has  often  been  compared 
to  the  "L'Allegro"  of  Milton,  and,  indeed,  it 
bears,  in  many  particulars,  much  resemblance  to 
that  exquisite  lyric. 

TESSELSCHADE. 

Soon  after  the  completion  of  the  "  Pala- 
medes," Vondel  was  again  for  a  long  time  in 
a  state  of  hopeless  melancholy.  He  did  not 
yield  to  its  depressing  influence,  however,  and 
at  the  age  of  forty  began  the  study  of  Greek,  in 
which  he  made  rapid  progress. 

He  still  associated  with  his  fellow-Academi- 
cians, though  no  longer  at  the  home  of  Roemer 
Visscher. 

This  patron  of  learning  had  now  been  dead 
for  several  years.  Other  changes  also  had  taken 
place.  Starter,  after  the  publication  of  his 
"  Parisian  Bower,"  seized  with  the  spirit  of  ad- 
venture, had  enlisted  as  a  private  soldier,  and 
died,    a    few    years  afterwards,  in    one    of    the 

70 


OF  VONDEL. 

battles  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War.  Laurens 
Reael  had  gone  to  the  Indies,  and,  after  win- 
ning the  highest  honors  as  soldier  and  states- 
man, had  come  back  again  to  his  native  land, 
which  he  continued  to  serve  in  a  diplomatic 
capacity  for  many  years. 

Hooft  had  been  honored  by  Prince  Maurice 
with  one  of  the  highest  dignities  in  the  state. 
He  had  been  appointed  Judge  of  Muiden  ;  and 
here,  in  his  castle,  in  the  society  of  his  lovely 
wife  and  beautiful  children,  he  gave  himself  up 
to  his  books.  It  was  here  in  his  "little  tower," 
one  of  the  four  turrets  of  this  castle,  that  he 
wrote  his  splendid  history.  Here  he  composed 
many  of  those  charming  lyrics  that  combine 
the  lusciousness  of  the  Italian  after  which  they 
were  modelled,  with  the  domestic  sweetness  of 
the  Dutch.  Here,  too,  he  wrote  his  great  trage- 
dies, "  Baeto,  or  the  Origin  of  the  Hollanders," 
and  "  Gerardt  van  Velsen."  Hooft  was  essen- 
tially a  student  and  a  scholar;  a  thinker  rather 
than  a  fighter.  He  did  not,  therefore,  like 
Vonxdel,  the  burgher,  plunge  with  flaming  soul 
into  the  conflict.  The  patrician  was  too  fond 
of  studious  contemplation  and  of  elegant  ease 
to  allow  the  discord  of  the  outside  world  to 
mar  the  serene  harmony  of  his  retirement. 

Brederoo  had  burnt  himself  out  with  the 
intensity  of  his  passion  for  his  adored,  but  not 

71 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

adoring,  Tesselschade.  Poor  fellow  !  after  all 
his  poetic  wooing  and  flattering  dedications,  he 
had  met  with  the  bitter  disappointment  of  a 
refusal ;  and,  after  a  meteoric  career,  died,  at 
the  age  of  thirty-six,  a  heart-broken  man. 
The  delicate  lyre-strings  on  that  yEolian  harp 
had  been  snapped  by  the  rude  blast  of  unre- 
quited love,  and  from  the  broken  chords  now 
surged  the  mournful  music  of  the  grave.  His 
dazzling  genius — eclipsed  in  its  noon-tide  splen- 
dor by  the  swift  night  of  death — was  quenched 
forever.  Such  was  the  sad  but  romantic  end- 
ing of  the  most  brilliant  man  of  his  age,  the 
greatest  humorist  that  Holland  has  yet  pro- 
duced. 

And  Tesselschade,  the  beautiful  inspirer  of 
this  passion.''  To  her,  too,  time  had  brought 
its  changes. 

Neptune's  trident,  it  seems,  had  more  attrac- 
tion for  her  than  the  lyre  of  Apollo,  whose 
strings  she  had  so  often  set  into  melodious 
vibration.  After  being  wooed  for  a  whole  dec- 
ade by  all  the  younger  poets,  she  had  at  last 
been  won  by  a  gallant  sea-captain,  Allart  Krom- 
balgh,  and  was  now  living  happily  in  blissful 
quiet  with  her  husband  at  Alkmaar. 

Tesselschade  was  now  thirty  years  of  age, 
and  had  lost  none  of  the  extraordinary  beauty 
of  early  youth.      Deep  golden  hair,   of  which 


OF  VONDEL. 

each  tiny  thread  seemed  just  the  string  for 
Cupid's  bow  ;  large  dark  eyes,  darting  rays  of 
love,  and  deep  with  infinitudes  of  tenderness  ; 
a  low  but  broad,  smooth  forehead  of  marble 
whiteness  ;  an  exquisite  mouth  ;  a  decided  chin 
that  spoke  of  a  will  reserved  ;  a  chiselled  nose 
with  delicate,  sensuous  nostrils — these  were  the 
most  striking  features  of  a  face  that  was  as 
remarkable  for  its  earnest  and  captivating  ex- 
pression as  for  its  great  beauty  and  radiant 
intelligence.  Add  to  this  a  glowing  complexion 
of  wonderful  purity,  and  a  slender  but  sym- 
metrically-shaped figure,  and  you  have  a  picture 
of  the  most  beautiful  and  talented  woman  of 
her  generation. 

All  the  poets  honored  the  bride  with  their 
choicest  verses.  Elevated  as  was  Vondel's 
epithalamium,  sweet  and  graceful  as  was 
Hooft's,  agreeable  as  were  the  many  other 
poems  that  the  occasion  inspired,  the  young 
Constantine  Huyghens  wrote  a  eulogy  in  a 
tender  and  delicious  strain  that  surpassed  them 
all. 

At  Alkmaar  the  happy  couple  had  an  ideal 
home,  exquisitely  furnished  with  pictures  and 
embroidery  done  by  the  skilful  hands  of  Tes- 
selschade  herself.  Here,  with  art  and  music,  in 
the  midst  of  the  amenities  of  domestic  life,  she 
lived  many  happy  years. 

73 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

Tesselschade,  however,  did  not  give  up  her 
passion  for  poetry.  She  continued  her  rela- 
tions with  the  charming  circle  of  her  admirers, 
and  corresponded  with  Hooft  in  Italian. 

Even  before  her  marriage  she  had  begun 
translating  the  "  Gerusalemme  Liberata "  of 
Tasso  ;  and  now,  with  the  aid  of  Hooft,  the  best 
Italian  scholar  in  the  Netherlands,  she  contin- 
ued this  absorbing  work.  This  version  was 
never  printed,  and  has,  unfortunately,  been 
lost. 

In  1622  her  sister  Anna,  the  friend  and  cor- 
respondent of  Rubens,  visited  Middelburg,  the 
capital  of  Zealand,  where  she  met  the  shining 
lights  of  the  School  of  Dort,  as  the  didactic 
writers  of  the  day  were  called.  At  the  head  of 
these  was  the  celebrated  Father  Cats — the  poet 
of  the  commonplace — the  most  popular,  though 
by  no  means  the  greatest,  poet  of  the  Nether- 
lands. Simon  van  Beaumont,  the  governor,  a 
lyrist  of  some  talent ;  Joanna  Coomans,  called 
the  "  Pearl  of  Zealand  ;"  and  Jacob  Westerbaen 
also  gave  her  sweet  welcome. 

Attentions  were  showered  on  the  honored 
guest,  and  her  visit  gave  occasion  to  that  well- 
known  collection  of  lyrics  entitled  "  The  Zea- 
land Nightingale,"  which  was  dedicated  to  her. 
Upon  her  return  from  Zealand,  Anna  was  also 
married,  and   from  this  time   forth  she   slowly 

74 


OF  VONDEL. 

ceased  her  literary  relations  with  the  School  of 
Amsterdam,  and  now  gave  herself  entirely  up 
to  domestic  duties. 

Not  so  Tesselschade,  Her  imagination  was 
too  intense,  her  conceptions  too  vivid,  to  find 
any  attraction  in  the  realistic  didacticism  of 
the  Catsian  circle.  Her  muse  was  not  to  be  re- 
strained by  household  cares.  Her  friendship 
with  Hooft  and  Vondel  remained  unbroken  ; 
and  we  shall  have  occasion  to  meet  her  again. 

Since  his  "  Palamedes,"  Vondel,  overwhelmed 
with  his  strange  depression,  had  written  but 
little.  In  1630  he  burst  into  a  blaze  of  satire 
that  swept  the  country  like  a  whirlwind  of 
flame.  His  poems  of  this  year  were  entitled 
Haec  Libertatis  Ergo,  and  were  of  unsparing 
severity.  "  The  evils  of  the  time,"  said  the  poet, 
"  are  too  deep-seated  to  be  eradicated  by  a  poul- 
tice of  honey."  Like  Juvenal  and  Persius,  he 
did  not  spare  the  knife,  although  he  knew  that 
every  thrust  only  made  his  enemies  more  bitter 
and  his  own  position  more  uncomfortable.  His 
absolute  fearlessness  was  the  theme  of  admira- 
tion, ijot  only  among  his  friends,  but  even 
among  his  enemies.  The  higher  the  person, 
the  stronger  his  invective ;  the  more  powerful 
the  object  of  his  dislike,  the  more  cutting  the 
edge  of  his  sarcasm. 

Never  was  satire  so  crushing  and  at  the  same 

75 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

time  so  keen  ;  never  mockery  so  unanswerable, 
polemic  so  overwhelming. 

A  Titan  had  thrown  mountains  of  irony  upon 
the  heads  of  a  thick-skulled  generation  of  vipers. 
Their  discomfiture  was  so  complete  that  not  even 
a  hiss  broke  from  the  silence  of  their  annihila- 
tion. The  whited  sepulchres  of  the  sovereign 
hypocrites  of  the  Republic  now  stood  black  as 
night  in  the  face  of  noon. 

Though  a  fiery  patriot  and  an  enthusiastic 
adherent  of  the  House  of  Orange,  Vondel 
received  but  little  favor  at  the  hands  of  Fred- 
eric Henry.  This  was  probably  due  to  the 
poet's  unpopularity  with  the  clergy,  and  to  the 
hatred  that  he  had  excited  among  the  Church 
party  in  power — the  uncompromising  Contra- 
Remonstrants,  whose  enmity  the  Stadholder 
would  doubtless  have  incurred  by  an  open 
friendship  with  a  man  whose  avowed  determina- 
tion it  was  to  accomplish  their  downfall. 

About  this  time  occurred  the  death  of  Wil- 
liam van  den  Vondel,  a  younger  brother  of  the 
poet,  whom  he  loved  most  tenderly.  This  youth 
had  been  educated  in  France  and  Italy,  and 
possessed  extraordinary  gifts  and  many  accom- 
plishments. He  had  also  written  some  poems 
of  great  promise,  but  was  now  cut  off  in  the 
flower  of  his  youth  by  an  insidious  malady 
that  he   had  brought   with    him  from   Italy,  a 

70 


OF  VONDEL. 

sickness  thought  by  many  to  have  been  due  to 
poison. 

The  poet  never  ceased  to  mourn  this  idoHzed 
brother,  and  almost  half  a  century  later  he  was 
heard  to  say :  "  I  could  cry  when  I  think  of  my 
brother.     He  was  much  my  superior." 

In  the  same  year  Vondel  made  a  journey  to 
Denmark  in  the  interest  of  his  business.  Upon 
his  return  journey  he  was  the  guest  of  Sir 
Jacob  van  Dyk,  the  minister  from  the  Court  of 
Sweden  to  The  Hague. 

At  Van  Dyk's  country  seat  in  Gottenburg  he 
wrote  a  poem  in  honor  of  Gustavus  Adolphus. 
This  production  is  chiefly  remarkable  as  fore- 
shadowing several  important  political  events. 
He  prophesied  that  the  great  Swede  would 
attack  the  Emperor  of  Rome,  tread  upon  the 
neck  of  Austria,  and  bring  the  Eternal  City 
itself  into  a  panic  of  fright — all  of  which  hap- 
pened within  four  years.  He  was,  however, 
silent  as  to  the  fate  of  the  King,  and  said  noth- 
ing about  his  tragic  death  in  the  hour  of  victory. 

So  we  here,  also,  see  Vondel  in  the  capacity  of 
the  classic  vates  and  of  the  Hebrew  seer.  Be- 
fore his  piercing  ken  even  the  time  to  come  de- 
livered up  its  hoarded  secrets.  The  past,  the 
present,  and  the  future  were  the  provinces  of 
the  grand  empire  reigned  over  by  his  kingly 
spirit. 

77 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 


THE   "  MUIDER   KRING. 


The  old  Chamber  of  the  Eglantine  had  now 
fallen  into  a  decline.  Many  of  its  choicest 
spirits  had  gone  over  to  Coster's  Academy  ;  the 
others,  Vondel  and  his  friends,  as  has  already 
been  related,  were  accustomed  to  meet  for 
mutual  help  and  criticism  at  the  hospitable 
home  of  the  Visschers. 

After  this  charming  home  was  broken  up,  the 
literary  centre  of  the  Amsterdam  School  was 
changed  to  the  Castle  of  Muiden,  a  few  miles 
from  the  metropolis. 

At  the  Visschers'  the  budding  talent  of  the 
country  had  been  carefully  nurtured  and  placed 
in  the  warm  sunlight  of  a  mutual  and  invigor- 
ating sympathy ;  at  Muiden,  however,  it  was 
seen  in  its  full  flower. 

It  was  here  that  the  literary  genius  of  the 
Netherlands  reached  its  highest  efflorescence  ; 
nor  has  it  ever  again  reached  the  sublime  stand- 
ard of  those  golden  days. 

Soon  after  being  appointed  Judge  of  Muiden, 
Hooft  had  rebuilt  the  old  castle  ;  and  now  it 
stood,  a  romantic  structure,  crowned  with  tur- 
rets and  towers.  It  was  picturesquely  situated 
on  an  island  in  the  centre  of  a  small  lake.  A 
feudal  drawbridge   connected   it  with    the  out-         ( 

78 


OF  VONDEL. 

side  world,  and  it  was  embowered  in  lofty 
trees  and  surrounded  by  gardens  and  orchards. 

There  is  no  more  charming  picture  in  litera- 
ture than  that  of  the  aristocratic  host  of  Mui- 
den,  with  his  handsome,  intelligent  face  and 
his  elegant  manners,  in  the  midst  of  his  guests, 
the  genius  and  the  flower  of  the  Netherlands — a 
scene  rendered  still  more  interesting  by  the 
presence  of  talented  and  beautiful  women. 

Here,  beneath  the  shade  of  the  spreading  lin- 
dens and  the  noble  beeches,  they  would  lighten 
the  heavy  summer  hours  by  games  and  conver- 
sation, and  by  the  discussion  of  affairs  of  state. 

Or,  perhaps,  too,  they  would  listen  to  the 
classic  muse  of  the  learned  Barlaeus,  or  to  the 
dramatic  recitations  of  Daniel  Mostert ;  or, 
occasionally, — 0  1  inestimable  privilege! — they 
would  be  thrilled  by  the  powerful  verses  of  the 
sublime  Vondel,  destined  to  become  the  great- 
est poet  of  his  country.  Here,  also,  they  were 
often  enchanted  by  the  tender  songs  of  the 
beautiful  Tesselschade,  the  Dutch  Nightingale, 
richly  warbling  her  own  deep  notes,  while  her 
nimble  fingers  swept  the  guitar  ;  or,  perhaps, 
singing  to  the  accompaniment  of  the  celebrated 
Zweling,  the  first  great  composer  of  the  Neth- 
erlands. Or  it  may  be  that  another  sweet 
singer,  Francesca  Duarte,  would  sometimes  add 
her   mellow  tones   to  those   delightful   strains, 

79 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

while  the  distinguished  company  applauded 
with  eloquent  silence. 

Here,  too,  before  her  apostasy  to  the  Dort 
School,  came  the  gentle  Anna  Visscher  to  read 
her  noble  rimes  ;  while  often,  also,  Vossius,  the 
first  Latinist  of  his  age,  and  Laurens  Reael,  the 
renowned  statesman,  soldier,  and  erotic  poet, 
would  lend  the  dignity  of  their  presence.  Here, 
furthermore,  came  the  young  Huyghens,  the 
most  versatile  of  a  v^ersatile  race,  and  one  of 
the  most  celebrated  wits  and  poets  of  his  day. 

The  "Muider  Kring "  (the  Muiden  circle), 
as  this  salon  is  known  in  the  literary  history 
of  the  Netherlands,  is  yet  the  proudest  boast 
and  the  perennial  glory  of  Holland  ;  for  this 
was  the  Elizabethan  era  of  Dutch  literature. 
Hooft,  as  the  social  centre  of  a  literary  con- 
stellation, exerted,  perhaps,  even  more  influence 
upon  his  age  by  his  magnetic  personality  than 
by  his  remarkable  writings. 

STRUGGLE   AND   ACHIEVEMENT. 

It  was  amid  such  congenial  surroundings  that 
the  genius  of  Vondel  grew  to  maturity. 

Soon   after  the  satires  of   1630,  he  translated  ' 

Seneca's  "  Hippolytus,"  which  he  dedicated  to 
Grotius.     Grotius    was    still    in    exile,    and   the  > 

publisher  of   this   translation,  fearing   the    dis-         , 

80  \ 


OF  VONDEL. 

pleasure  of  the  authorities,  tore  the  dedication 
leaf  out  of  every  copy. 

Vondel's  next  effort  was  the  "  Farmer's  Cate- 
chism," which  was  full  of  a  rollicking  humor 
that,  at  the  same  time,  was  not  without  its 
sting.  Vossius,  in  his  professional  study  at 
Leiden,  laughed  heartily  upon  reading  it,  and 
it  occasioned  much  mirth  among  the  Armini- 
ans,  or  Remonstrants,  everywhere. 

Some  satirical  poems  of  the  same  period  were 
much  keener,  and  unmercifully  ridiculed  the 
blunders  of  the  government,  the  general  ex- 
travagance, and  the  increase  of  avarice  and 
ostentation  among  the  citizens. 

Shortly  after  this  came  his  "  Decretum  Hor- 
ribile,"  a  powerful  polemic  against  the  Calvin- 
istic  doctrine  of  election  and  predestination  as 
interpreted  by  the  Gomarists.  This  savage  at- 
tack on  their  belief  filled  the  Ultra-Calvinists 
with  rage,  and  caused  the  name  of  the  poet  to 
be  execrated  as  the  personification  of  infamy. 

Hear  his  fierce  outburst  against  the  great 
Calvin  himself : 

"That  monster  dread  that  from  a  poison-chalice 
Pours  out  the  drug  of  hell  in  unctuous  malice  ; 
And  makes  the  gracious  God  a  very  fiend." 

No  wonder  that  in  the  eyes  of  these  stern 
followers  of  Calvin  he  was  himself  a  very  devil, 

81 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

nor  is  it  extravagant  to  say  that  he  was  hardly 
less  feared  by  them  than  his  Satanic  majesty 
himself. 

From  every  pulpit  the  Contra-Remonstrants 
hurled  anathemas  at  the  offending  poet. 

Not  one  of  their  gatherings  from  which  his 
name  did  not  rise  to  the  throne  of  divine  grace 
in  clouds  of  execration.  Not  a  preacher  of  the 
sect  that  did  not  call  down  the  wrath  of 
Jehovah  upon  the  head  of  the  blasphemer  who 
had  dared  to  mock  the  arrogant  tenets  of  his 
exclusive  faith. 

Vondel,  however,  did  not  pause  in  his  path 
one  instant,  answering  their  maledictions  with 
stinging  satire,  and  their  abuse  with  over- 
whelming invective. 

Yet  it  must  not  be  thought  that  our  poet 
was  forever  forging  thunderbolts  of  satire  at 
the  blaze  of  his  wrath.  He  also  found  time  for 
the  amenities  of  life ;  and  thus  we  often  find 
him  in  the  companionship  of  those  distinguished 
friends  who  contributed  so  much  to  his  pleasure 
and  his  growth. 

About  this  period  the  moribund  Chamber  of 
the  Eglantine  was  merged  into  Coster's  Acad- 
emy, which  now  became  the  theatre  of  the 
city. 

Shortly   afterwards  Vondel  wrote  his  verses  ' 

of  welcome  to  Hugo  Grotius   upon  his  return  i 


OF  VONDEL, 

from  exile — verses  full  of  severe  condemnation 
of  the  party  that  had  banished  him.  Then  fol- 
lowed a  song  of  triumph  for  the  naval  victories 
over  the  Spaniards,  and  several  satires  against 
the  clergy,  who  were  again  fomenting  restrictive 
measures  against  the  freedom  of  conscience. 
All  of  these  productions  glowed  with  the  fiei^ce 
jealousy  for  personal  liberty  which  had  become 
the  poet's  ruling  passion  ;  for  his  verse  ever  gave 
utterance  to  his  dominant  emotion.  In  his  own 
words:  "  I  needs  must  sing  the  song  that  fills 
my  heart." 

His  "  Funeral  Sacrifice  of  Magdeburg"  alone 
was  free  from  this  contentious  spirit.  This  was 
a  heroic  poem  in  praise  of  Gustavus  Adolphus, 
the  bulwark  of  Protestantism,  and  his  splendid 
victory  over  Tilly  and  Pappenheim  at  Leipsic — 
that  terrible  vengeance  for  the  fearful  sacking 
of  Magdeburg! 

In  the  beginning  of  1632  the  illustrious  Athe- 
neum  of  Amsterdam  was  opened  with  imposing 
ceremonies,  to  which  occasion  Vondel  contrib- 
uted an  excellent  poem. 

Not  long  afterwards,  GrotiuSj  on  account  of 
his  too  open  opposition  to  his  old  enemies,  was 
again  banished  from  his  fatherland.  A  price  of 
two  thousand  guldens  was  set  on  his  head, 
which  gave  Vondel  cause  for  another  trench- 
ant pasquinade.      He    did   not,   however,    dare 

83 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

to  publish  this,  for  fear  of  calling  upon  himself 
the  same  violence  that  his  friend  had  escaped. 
Grotius  himself  wrote  Vondel  a  letter  of  thanks 
for  his  interest  in  his  behalf,  adding  that  it 
could  do  no  possible  good  to  publish  the  poem, 
and  that  it  would  therefore  be  unwise  for  him 
to  put  himself  into  danger. 

An  elegy  on  the  death  of  Count  Ernest  Casi- 
mir  and  an  ode  on  the  triumph  of  Maastricht 
saw  the  light,  however,  and  were  much  ad- 
mired by  all  parties  of  his  countrymen. 

Vondel  now  began  his  great  epic,  "  Constan- 
tine."     This  poem  had  for  its  subject  the  jour- 
ney of  Constantine  to  Rome,  and  was  intended  ; 
to  be  complete  in  twelve  books,  after  the  model 
of  Virgil's  "^neid."     The  poet  had  for  several 
years  been  preparing  himself  for  this  immense  i 
undertaking  by  a  thorough  study,  not  only  of              ' 
the  great  epics  of  antiquity,  but  also  of  those 
of  Tasso  and  Ariosto, 

Besides  reading  the  various  Church  Fathers 
and   the  historians  who    had    written   on    this  j 

period,  he  also  entered  into   a  correspondence  ' 

concerning  the  subject  with   Grotius,  who  was  j 

much  pleased  to  hear  of  his  plan  and  who  also 
gave  him  considerable  information.  , 

While  Vondel   was   busy  with    his  epic,  his  j 

wife  bore   him   a  son,  whom,   in  honor  of  his  I 

hero,  he  named  Constantine.     The  child  died, 

84 


OF  VONDEL. 

however,  and  not  long  afterwards  the  mother 
also.  This  terrible  affliction  cast  a  gloom  over 
the  life  of  the  poet  from  which  he  never  en- 
tirely emerged.  Full  of  pathos  is  his  letter  to 
Grotius  stating  his  loneliness,  and  adding  that 
all  his  interest  in  his  epic  had  departed  :  "  Since 
the  death  of  my  sainted  wife,  I  have  lost  heart ; 
so  that  I  shall  have  to  give  up  my  great  '  Con- 
stantine'  for  the  present." 

The  poet  was  never  able  to  resume  this  stu- 
pendous work.  It  was  too  suggestive  of  memo- 
ries of  a  happiness  forever  lost.  After  keeping 
the  manuscript  by  him  for  several  years,  with 
the  vain  hope  that  his  interest  might  be  reani- 
mated, he  at  last  destroyed  it.  It  was  thus  that 
Dutch  literature  lost  its  greatest  epic,  a  poem 
which  would  doubtless  have  added  to  the 
renown  of  the  author,  and  reflected  lustre  upon 
his  country. 

In  1635,  Grotius,  who  was  now  the  Swedish 
Ambassador  to  France,  published  his  Latin 
tragedy,  "  Sophompaneas,"  of  which  Joseph  was 
the  hero.  Vondel,  who  was  still  in  his  shop  in 
the  Warmoesstraat,  having  laid  the  "  Constan- 
tine  "  aside,  and  wishing  to  employ  his  leisure 
time,  made  a  Dutch  rendering  of  this  play,  of 
which  the  author  wrote  Vossius  as  follows  : 

"  I  understand  that  Vondel  hath  done  me  the 
honor  to  put  my  '  Sophompaneas  '  with  his  own 

8s 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

hand,  that  is  to  say,  in  his  artistic  manner,  into 
our  Holland  tongue.  I  am  under  great  obliga- 
tions to  him,  because  he,  who  is  capable  of  so 
much  better  things  than  I,  hath  now,  in  his 
translation  of  my  play,  given  his  labor  as  a 
proof  of  his  friendship." 

Vondel,  in  translating,  often  sought  the 
advice  of  his  friends,  saying,  "  Each  judgment 
views  the  matter  in  a  different  light ;  and  the 
judgment  of  one  is  poor  beside  the  opinions  of 
many."  He  also  said  that  he  found  the  work 
of  translating  serviceable  to  gain  a  knowledge 
of  the  technique,  diction,  thought,  and  peculi- 
arity of  an  author.  Moreover,  he  discovered 
that  it  not  only  kindled  his  imagination,  but  that 
it  also  suggested  new  thought,  and  was  condu- 
cive to  his  own  improvement  in  language  and 
in  form.  For  this  reason  he  translated  so 
many  of  the  classics,  of  which  more  will  be  said 
at  the  proper  time. 

The  Academy  having  become  too  small  for 
the  public  that  now  thronged  to  the  theatre, 
Dr.  Coster  sold  the  building  to  the  regents  of 
the  City's  Orphan  Asylum  and  of  the  Old 
Men's  Home.  The  managers  of  these  chari- 
table institutions,  then,  as  an  investment,  built 
a  new  theatre  in  its  place.  Here,  twice  a  week, 
plays  were  presented,  with  great  profit  to  the 
management. 

86 


OF  VONDEL. 

The  new  theatre  was  completed  in  1637,  and 
the  first  drama  played  on  its  stage  was  Vondel's 
fine  tragedy,  "  Gysbrecht  van  Amstel."  This 
play  had  as  its  subject  the  defeat  of  the  old 
hero,  Sir  Gysbrecht,  and  his  banishment  from 
his  native  city,  Amsterdam,  soon  after  the  death 
of  Floris  V. 

This  historical  event  was  supposed  to  have 
occurred  about  Christmastide,  and  the  drama 
was  accordingly  presented  on  New  Year's  Eve. 
The  "  Gysbrecht  "  is  the  most  popular  of  all  of 
Vondel's  plays,  and  it  is  interesting  to  note 
that,  from  the  night  of  its  first  presentation, 
two  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago,  until  the 
present  time,  it  has  been  presented  every 
New  Year's  Eve  on  the  stage  of  the  theatre  of 
Amsterdam. 

Some  of  the  situations  in  this  drama  are  based 
upon  various  episodes  in  Virgil's  "  yEneid." 
One  of  the  characters,  also,  is  made  to  prophesy 
the  future  glory  of  the  city;  which,  moreover, 
may  easily  be  interpreted  as  prophetic  of  the 
grandeur  of  the  greater  "  New  Amsterdam " 
beyond  the  sea,  a  circumstance  that  should  give 
it  additional  interest  to  Americans.  The  "  Gys- 
brecht "  was  dedicated  to  Grotius,  who  acknowl- 
edged the  honor  as  follows: 

"  Sir:  I  hold  myself  much  beholden  to  you 
for  your  courtesy  and  your  great   kindness  to 

87 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

me ;  for  you,  almost  alone — at  least  there  are 
but  few  besides  you— in  the  Netherlands,  seek 
to  relieve  my  gloom  and  to  reward  my  unre- 
warded services.  I  have  always  held  your 
talents  and  your  works  in  the  highest  esteem." 

He  then  goes  on  to  speak  of  the  charming 
proportions  of  the  play,  and  of  the  "  verses, 
pithy,  tender,  heart-melting,  and  flowing." 
Then  he  continues:  "  The 'CEdipus  Coloneus' 
of  Sophocles  and  the  '  Supplicants  '  of  Euripi- 
des have  not  honored  Athens  more  than  thou 
hast  Amsterdam." 

To  Vossius,  at  Leiden,  Grotius  also  wrote  in 
a  no  less  complimentary  strain  concerning  this 
production. 

We  had  the  privilege  of  seeing  this  drama  on 
the  stage  in  Amsterdam  one  New  Year's  Eve  a 
couple  of  years  ago,  and  we  confess  that  it  was 
not  until  we  heard  the  magnificent  recitative  of 
the  superb  Bouwmeester,  the  great  tragedian  of 
Holland,  in  this  beautiful  play,  that  we  fully 
appreciated  the  grandeur  and  the  sublimity  of 
Vondel,  and  the  power  and  the  sweetness  of 
the  Dutch  language. 

Part  of  the  Roman  ceremonial,  with  its  splen- 
did ritual,  is  introduced  into  one  of  the  scenes 
of  the  "  Gysbrecht ;  "  and  this  has  been  taken  as^ 
foreshadowing  Vondel's  conversion  to  Catholi- 
cism.    Naturally  this  gave  offence  to  many  of 

83 


OF  VONDEL. 

the  bigots  among  the  Calvinists,  who  saw  in  it 
only  the  glorification  of  popery. 

Vondel  then  wrote  a  tragedy,  "  Messalina," 
which,  however^  he  destroyed  because  some  of 
the  actors,  while  rehearsing  their  parts,  through 
some  adventitious  remark  of  the  poet,  had  in- 
ferred that  the  play  possessed  a  certain  politi- 
cal significance,  and  that  it  was  an  allegory 
picturing  forth  some  of  the  notables  of  the  day, 
after  the  manner  of  the  "  Palamedes." 

The  poet  fearing  that  it  might  breed  mis- 
chief, and  seeing  that  it  was  impossible  to  rec- 
tify the  matter,  since  it  had  already  become 
a  subject  of  conversation  among  the  actors, 
begged  the  parts  of  the  three  leading  rdles, 
pretending  that  he  wished  to  make  some  im- 
portant corrections.  Having  obtained  posses- 
sion of  these  parts,  he  took  good  care  to  burn 
them,  thus  preventing  the  presentation  of  the 
play,  and  putting  a  stop  to  the  silly  chatter  of 
the  players. 

ROME  ! 

His  next  undertaking  was  the  translation  of 
the  "  Electra  "  of  Sophocles,  being  aided  in  the 
work  by  Isaac  Vossius,  a  son  of  the  celebrated 
Leyden  professor,  who  was  himself  also  a  pro- 
found scholar.  As  was  usual  with  this  poet, 
the  translation  of  this  tragedy  was  followed  by 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

one  of  his  own,  the  drama  of  "  The  Virgins  ; 
or,  Saint  Ursula."  This  he  dedicated  to  the 
city  of  his  birth,  Cologne  ;  where,  the  legend 
says,  a  British  princess,  with  eleven  thousand 
other  maidens,  at  the  command  of  Attila,  the 
ferocious  Hun,  suffered  a  martyr's  death.  This 
tragedy  also  received  the  praises  of  Grotius ; 
and  it  may  safely  be  said  that  no  man  of  his 
time,  with  the  possible  exception  of  John  Mil- 
ton, was  so  capable  of  judging  according  to  the 
rigid  rules  of  the  antique  as  Grotius.  For  be- 
sides being  the  most  learned  man  of  his  age, 
an  accomplished  Grecian,  and  an  unsurpassed 
Latinist,  he  was  himself  a  poet  of  no  mean 
order. 

"  The  Virgins,"  notwithstanding  its  beauty 
and  tenderness,  was  the  cause  of  much  sorrow 
to  the  friends  of  Vondel,  in  that  it  unmistak- 
ably showed  the  poet's  inclination  towards 
Romanism. 

True,  as  has  been  narrated,  this  had  for  some 
years  been  suspected  from  the  tone  of  several 
other  productions  that  preceded  it ;  but  then  it 
was  only  a  suspicion,  now  there  was  no  longer 
a  doubt. 

Vondel  was  plainly  on  the  high  road  to 
Rome,  and  it  was  whispered  that  he,  having 
become  tired  of  his  loneliness,  had  been  at- 
tracted   by    a   certain    Catholic    widow,    whose 

90 


OF  VONDEL. 

seductive   charms  were  largely  responsible  for 
his  wavering  faith. 

The  widow  here  referred  to  is  supposed  to 
have  been  the  fair  Tesselschade,  the  friend  of 
his  youth,  who,  after  ten  years  of  wedded  bliss, 
had  at  one  stroke  been  deprived  of  both  her 
eldest  child  and  her  husband,  and  was  now  liv- 
ing with  her  one  remaining  child,  a  daughter, 
in  resigned  widowhood  at  Alkmaar.  We  are 
now  again  to  see  this  remarkable  woman  as  the 
inspirer  of  the  muse  of  Holland. 

Barlaeus  in  his  "Tessalica"  wooed  her  in 
elegant  Latin ;  and  Vondel  dedicated  to  her  his 
translation  of  the  "  Electra  "  of  Sophocles,  and 
also  his  next  Biblical  tragedy,  "  Peter  and 
Paul,"  which  was  even  more  decided  in  its 
Romanism  than  its  predecessor. 

Tesselschade,  however,  preferred  her  black 
widow's  weeds  to  the  white  raiment  of  a  bride, 
and  continued  in  her  retirement,  alone  with  the 
memory  of  her  happy  past.  Her  spirit  shone 
only  the  brighter  in  its  progress  through  the 
valley  of  tribulation  to  the  heights  of  resigna- 
tion. She  had  been  chastened  by  affliction  and 
saddened  by  sorrow,  yet  she  did  not  lose  heart, 
but  still  enjoyed  the  society  of  her  friends. 
She  still  took  an  admirable  part  in  the  drama 
of  life. 

In  1639,  the   French  Queen   Dowager,  Maria 

91 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

de'  Medici,  paid  a  short  visit  to  Amsterdam. 
Tesselschade  not  only  sang  a  song  before  her, 
but  also  presented  her  with  an  Italian  poem  of 
her  own  composition.  She  had  finished  her 
version  of  the  "  Gerusalemme,"  and  was  now 
busy  translating  the  "  Adonis  "  of  Marini. 

The  young  poets  Vos  and  Brandt,  the  poetess 
Alida  Bruno,  and  others  of  the  rising  literati, 
sought  her  friendship.  Tesselschade  was  still 
the  Queen  when  the  Muses  went  a-maying,  and 
her  sovereignty  remained  undisputed  until  the 
day  of  her  death. 

In  1640  appeared  Vondel's  Biblical  tragedy, 
the  "  Brothers,"  which  was  thought  by  the 
critics  to  surpass  all  that  had  preceded  it.  It  was 
dedicated  to  Vossius,  whose  comment  upon  read- 
ing it  was,  Scribis  cBternitati.  Grotius  wrote 
the  poet  a  letter,  and  was  also  loud  in  his  praises, 
comparing  it  with  the  most  famous  tragedies  of 
antiquity,  adding  significantly,  "  and  do  not  for- 
get your  great  epic,  '  Constantine.'  "  By  others 
this  drama  was  thought  to  combine  the  tender- 
ness of  Euripides  with  the  sublimity  of  Sopho- 
cles. 

In  the  same  year,  also,  followed  two  more 
Biblical  tragedies,  "Joseph  in  Dothan  "  and 
"  Joseph  in  Egypt,"  which  also  occasioned  much 
remark,  and  were  not  inferior  to  the  best  plays 
that  had  gone  before. 

92 


OF  VONDEL. 

Vondel  was  now  universally  acknowledged  to 
be  the  greatest  poet  of  the  time.  The  ascent 
of  Parnassus,  however,  is  not  as  easy  as  the 
dccensHS  Averni.  By  years  of  study,  constant 
watchfulness,  and  perpetual  striving  for  self- 
improvement,  and  a  prayerful  devotion  to  his 
art — thus  alone  did  he  attain  the  summit  of 
such  achievement. 

In  him  was  seen  purity  of  diction,  clearness 
and  terseness  of  expression,  power  of  logic, 
richness  and  agreeableness  of  invention,  and  a 
style  that  was  at  once  mellifluous  and  sublime. 

The  tragedy,  "  Peter  and  Paul,"  to  whose 
open  Romanism  reference  has  already  been 
made,  was  his  next  effort,  and  was  soon  followed 
by  the  "  Epistles  of  the  Holy  Virgin  Martyrs," 
which  were  twelve  in  number,  and  were  dedi- 
cated to  the  Holy  Virgin  Mary,  whom  he  called 
"the  Queen  of  Heaven,"  and  named  as  Media- 
tor with  her  divine  Son.  This  was  a  sufificient 
acknowledgment  of  his  conversion  to  the  Cath- 
olic faith  to  alienate  many  of  his  warmest 
friends.  This,  however,  though  it  must  have 
brought  much  grief  to  his  sensitive  heart,  did 
not  cause  him  to  regret  having  made  a  step  that 
he  had  so  long  been  meditating. 

Before  beginning  these  "  Epistles,"  Vondel 
had  translated  many  of  the  epistles  of  Ovid 
that  he  might  absorb  the  grace  and  the  spirit 

93 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

of  Ovid's  epistolary  style.  His  own  effort  was 
deemed  not  less  graceful  and  spirited.  Their 
literary  merit,  however,  did  not,  in  the  estima- 
tion of  his  Protestant  friends,  compensate  for 
their  justification  of  popery. 

Even  Hooft,  Vondel's  life-long  friend  and 
brother  in  art,  grew  cold  ;  and  we  find  the  fol- 
lowing reference  to  this  in  one  of  the  poet's  let- 
ters to  the  Judge  of  Muiden.  Vondel  writes: 
"  I  wish  Cornelius  Tacitus  a  happy  and  a  blessed 
New  Year;  and  although  he  forbids  me  a  harm- 
less Ave  Maria  at  his  heretical  table,  yet  I  shall 
nevertheless  occasionally  read  another  Ave 
Maria  for  him  that  he  may  die  as  devout  a 
Catholic  as  he  now  shows  himself  an  ardent  par- 
tisan." Their  friendship  was  yet  further  broken 
by  other  circumstances  which  had  their  origin 
in  the  first  cause  of  separation. 

In  1645,  Vondel  wrote  a  lyric  poem  on  a 
miracle  which  the  Catholics  taught  had  oc- 
curred at  Amsterdam  about  the  middle  of  the 
fourteenth  century.  This  was  too  much  for  his 
Protestant  friends,  and  he  became  the  subject  of 
innumerable  lame  lampoons  and  petty  pasqui- 
nades, in  which  his  espousal  of  the  Catholic 
legend  was  coarsely  ridiculed. 

Hooft,  in  a  letter  to  Professor  Barlaeus,  also 
expressed  his  opinion  in  the  following  words : 
"  Vondel  seems  to  grow  tired  of  nothing  sooner 

94 


OF  VONDEL. 

than  of  rest.  It  seems  he  must  have  saved  up 
three  hundred  guldens  more,  which  are  causing 
him  a  good  deal  of  embarrassment.  And  I  do 
not  know  but  that  it  might  cost  him  even  much 
dearer  than  this  ;  for  some  hot-head  might  be 
tempted  prematurely  to  lay  violent  hands  upon 
him,  thinking  that  not  even  a  cock  would  crow 
his  regret." 

These  productions,  however,  were  only  the 
prelude  to  a  greater  work  that  was  to  follow — 
his  "  Mysteries  of  the  Altar,"  which  was  pub- 
lished in  the  autumn  of  1645, 

This  poem  was  a  glorification  of  the  Mass, 
and  was  divided  into  three  books.  Vondel,  in 
writing  this  able  work,  was  assisted  by  the 
counsel  of  the  most  learned  and  the  most  pro- 
found men  in  the  Catholic  Church.  The  doc- 
trines of  Thomas  Aquinas  and  other  celebrated 
schoolmen,  and  the  teachings  of  the  best  mod- 
ern authorities  were  here  poetically  combined, 
and  the  poet  was  hailed  on  every  side  as  the 
ablest  defender  of  the  tenets  of  the  Church  of 
Rome. 

This  poem  provoked  a  celebrated  reply  by 
Jacob  Westerbaen,  one  of  the  most  noted  of 
the  School  of  Dort,  who,  while  praising  the  art 
of  the  new  champion  of  Catholicism,  at  the  same 
time  attacked  his  doctrinal  position  with  such 
piercing   analysis  and  with  so   great  display  of 

95 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

theological  dogma,  that,  in  the  opinion  of  the 
Protestants,  Vondel  was  ingloriously  van- 
quished. The  Catholics,  of  course,  thought 
differently. 

Jacob,  Archbishop  of  Mechlin,  to  whom 
Vondel's  poem  was  dedicated,  sent  the  author  a 
painting  with  which  Vondel  was  at  first  greatly 
pleased.  Learning,  however,  that  it  was  only  a 
bad  copy,  he  gave  it  away  to  his  sister,  no  longer 
wishing  to  have  such  a  poor  reward  for  so  great 
an  undertaking  before  his  eyes. 

A  prose  translation  of  the  works  of  Virgil  was 
the  next  thing  that  this  indefatigable  worker 
essayed.  This  version  received  the  commenda- 
tion of  most  of  his  contemporaries,  Barlaeus, 
indeed,  found  fault  with  it,  saying  that  it  was 
without  life  and  marrow  ;  adding,  cynically,  that 
Augustus  would  surely  not  have  withheld  this 
Maro  from  the  flames.  But,  then,  Barlaeus  was 
such  a  thorough  Latinist  that  his  own  language 
seemed  foreign  to  him.  He  would  have  had 
the  translator  preserve  the  peculiarities  of  the 
Latin  at  the  expense  of  his  native  tongue. 
And,  then,  was  he  not  also  Vondel's  rival  for  the 
hand  of  Tesselschade  ?  Praise  from  him  surely 
was  not  to  be  expected.  The  universal  opinion 
was  that  it  was  a  difficult  work  excellently  done. 
This  translation  was  also  the  forerunner  of  a 
drama.     "  Maria  Stuart  "  was  the  name  of  the 

96 


OF  VONDEL. 

tragedy  which  the  bard  now  offered  for  the 
perusal  of  his  countrymen. 

The  poet  represented  the  unhappy  Queen  of 
Scots  as  perfect  and  without  stain,  while  her 
victorious  rival  Elizabeth  was  painted  in  infer- 
nal black. 

This  subject  naturally  gave  the  proselyte  oc- 
casion to  display  his  burning  zeal  for  Rome; 
and  upon  the  publication  of  the  play  a  great 
outcry  was  raised  against  both  drama  and 
author.  Some  of  Vondel's  enemies,  indeed, 
were  so  incensed,  and  raised  such  a  commotion, 
that  the  poet  was  brought  before  the  city  tribu- 
nal, and  fined  one  hundred  and  eighty  guldens; 
"which,"  says  Brandt,  Vondel's  biographer, 
"  seemed  indeed  strange  to  many,  seeing  what 
freedom  in  writing  was  allowed  at  this  time,  and 
because,  also,  even  to  the  poets  of  antiquity  more 
was  permitted  than  to  most  others,"  Abraham 
de  Wees,  Vondel's  publisher,  however,  paid  the 
fine,  being  unwilling  that  the  poet  should  suffer 
by  that  which  brought  him  profit. 

Hugo  Grotius  was  now  dead,  but  shortly 
before  his  decease  he  had  written  several  pam- 
phlets whose  object  it  was  to  effect  some  rec- 
onciliation between  Catholic  and  Protestant. 
Vondel  now  translated  those  portions  of  these 
favorable  to  the  papacy,  combining  them  in  a 
polemic  called  "  Grotius' Testament."     Where- 

97 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

upon  many  said  that  he  had  now  gone  too  far  in 
his  zeal  for  his  adopted  church ;  for  it  was  claimed 
that  upon  the  statements  of  Grotius  he  often 
put  a  construction  not  favored  by  the  context. 
It  was  even  insinuated  by  some  that  he  had  not 
acted  in  good  faith. 

Brandt  himself  made  this  intimation  in  a 
preface  written  by  him  to  an  edition  of  Vondel's 
collected  works  which  was  published  in  the 
year  1647.  Brandt  was  then  yet  a  mere  youth, 
and  was  rankling  with  the  memory  of  a  severe 
and  unjust  reprimand  that  the  older  poet  some 
time  before  had  given  him.  He  therefore  ac- 
knowledges in  his  naive  biography  that  he 
eagerly  welcomed  this  opportunity  to  be  re- 
venged upon  the  distinguished  offender,  and 
accordingly  made  this  dose  of  his  gall  as  bitter 
as  possible.  The  poet  felt  the  insinuation 
keenly,  and  for  a  long  time  suspected  Peter  de 
Groot,  the  son  of  the  great  lawyer,  as  the  perpe- 
trator of  the  offending  paragraph.  Many  years 
afterwards,  however,  the  smart  of  the  wound 
having  departed,  the  real  culprit  confessed  his 
sin  to  the  then  aged  poet,  and  obtained  the 
asked  for  absolution. 

It  was  in  1641  that  Vondel  openly  embraced 
the  Catholic  faith,  though  his  tendency  in  that 
direction  had  been  apparent  in  his  poems  many 
years  before.     We  have  already  referred  to  the 

y8 


I 

i 


OF  VONDEL. 

report  that  his  love  for  a  beautiful  and  wealthy 
widow,  Tesselschade,  had  been  the  main  instru- 
ment in  drawing  him  from  his  Protestant  moor- 
ings, and  this  was  doubtless  to  some  extent  true. 
And  yet  it  is  almost  certain  that  Vondel  would 
have  embraced  the  cause  of  Rome  even  without 
the  alluring  wiles  of  this  fair  enchantress. 

Many  of  his  relatives,  including  his  brother 
William,  belonged  to  that  faith.  Many  of  his 
dearest  friends  also  were  of  that  denomination. 
His  daughter  Anna,  furthermore,  had  not  only 
entered  that  church,  but  had  also  taken  the 
veil.  Moreover,  he  had  long  been  drifting  away 
from  the  creed  of  his  early  childhood,  the  Ana- 
baptism  of  his  parents.  The  severe  pietism  of 
that  belief  had  never  strongly  appealed  to  him. 
True,  he  had  espoused  the  cause  of  the  Armini- 
ans,  as  against  their  enemies  the  Gomarists  ; 
but  it  was  only  because  they  were  the  under 
side,  and  because  their  cause  was  also  the  cause 
of  civil  liberty,  that  he  had  entered  the  lists 
with  them. 

The  perpetual  discord,  the  disunion,  the  bick- 
erings, the  bitterness,  and  the  persecutions 
among  the  different  Protestant  sects  of  the 
period  were  exceedingly  repulsive  to  him.  He 
did  not  forget  that  under  the  banner  of  Protest- 
antism his  country  had  triumphed  over  the 
common  foe.     He  did  not  forget  that    Calvin 

99 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

had  been  the  herald  of  science  and  the  apostle 
of  liberty.  He  did  not  fail  to  remember  the 
glories  of  the  past.  But  the  contemplation  of 
that  proud  past  only  increased  his  abhorrence 
of  the  petty  present. 

Calvinism  had  indeed  done  much  for  Hol- 
land ;  but  the  inevitable  reaction  had  come,  and 
its  excesses  could  not  be  justified.  Calvinism 
had  come  to  mean  dogma ;  and  dogma  had  no 
attraction  for  his  poetic  mind.  Calvinism  had 
become  the  foe  of  freedom  ;  and  freedom  was 
the  very  breath  of  this  flaming  patriot.  Calvin- 
ism had  shown  itself  an  enemy  of  the  arts,  of 
poetry,  and  of  the  drama  ;  and  these  were  as  the 
very  soul  of  Vondel. 

How  could  he  know  that  this  was  only  a  fleet- 
ing gloom,  from  which  the  sun  of  Calvinism 
would  again  emerge,  radiant  with  all  of  its 
original  glory?  He  was  weary — weary  of  the 
discord,  and  longed  for  peace. 

Is  it  to  be  wondered  at  that  the  poet  gradu- 
ally drifted,  even  as  Cardinal  Newman,  into  a 
haven  that  promised  such  longed-for  rest?  Is 
it  surprising  that  he  who  had  so  long  been 
chilled  by  the  cold  formalism  and  the  frigid 
austerity  of  the  dogma  of  the  North  should 
now  find  it  agreeable  to  thaw  out  his  soul  in 
the  glow  of  the  religion  of  the  South  ?  Then, 
too,  the  beauty  of  the  Catholic  ritual,  the  pomp, 


OF  VONDEL. 

the  grand  processional,  the  holy  days,  the  glori- 
ous music,  the  noble  symmetry  of  the  Roman 
architecture,  the  awe-inspiring  antiquity  of  the 
Church,  the  magnificence  of  its  domain,  the 
splendor  of  its  organization,  allured  the  imag- 
ination of  the  poet  with  irresistible  power ; 
and  his  reason  followed,  a  not  unwilling  captive. 

Nor  was  it  the  hasty  choice  of  a  regretted  im- 
pulse. Everything  tends  to  show— we  have 
traced  the  gradual  growth  in  his  poems — that 
it  was  a  long-contemplated  step  from  which, 
once  taken,  nothing  should  ever  be  able  to  re- 
move him.  It  is,  therefore,  in  Vondel  that  we 
find  one  of  the  most  able  and  ardent  champions 
the  Church  of  Rome  has  ever  had.  No  saint 
ever  more  truly  deserved  canonization  than  this 
high  priest  of  Apollo,  flaming  with  zeal  for 
his  adopted  faith. 

Vondel  was  a  crusader  born  five  hundred 
years  too  late — a  crusader,  too,  a  lion-hearted 
defender  of  the  Cross,  most  of  whose  battles 
were  fought  beneath  the  brow  of  Mount  Zion 
and  within  the  very  gates  of  Jerusalem. 

Few  crusaders,  indeed,  had  fought  so  long 
and  so  well  ;  few  had  won  so  many  victories, 
had  slain  so  many  enemies,  as  this  indomitable 
hero  of  Amsterdam. 

Though  bitterly  opposed  to  the  Contra- 
Remonstrants,  he,  however,  helped  them  in  de- 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

crying  the  growing  spirit  of  ostentation  and  the 
vices  of  the  day.  And  although  he  openly  sided 
with  the  Remonstrants,  he  never  joined  them. 
But  as  a  flower  turns  its  head  to  the  sun,  so 
he,  too,  gradually  turned  towards  the  old  belief. 

At  this  period,  when  Protestants  were  in  turn 
persecuting  heretics  and,  reveling  in  their  sud- 
den freedom,  were  indulging  in  all  sorts  of  fan- 
atical excesses,  Catholicism,  purified,  began  to 
live  again.  Furthermore,  to  the  poetic  tempera- 
ment of  the  poet  and  his  stern  sense  of  justice, 
the  bigotry  of  the  Gomarists  seemed  no  less 
odious  than  the  more  open  persecutions  of  the 
Catholics  of  the  preceding  age. 

It  was  thus  that  Vondel,  long  tossed  upon  a 
sea  of  doubt,  sought  anchorage  in  a  harbor  where 
winds  were  calm.  It  was  thus  that  this  great  man 
was  led  to  take  a  step  which  called  down  upon 
him  for  many  years  hate,  aversion,  and  ridicule. 

But  in  spite  of  all  this  he  remained  true  to  his 
new  faith,  and  became  a  fervid  Catholic  ;  one 
ever  consistent  and  true  to  his  adopted  church. 
Here  he  could  remain  undisturbed  in  his  rev- 
erence for  antiquity,  in  his  worship  of  beauty, 
and  in  his  love  for  poetry  and  art.  Here  there 
was  ever  a  labyrinth  of  mystery  for  his  aspiring 
soul  to  explore.  Here  the  plan  of  salvation 
was  not  reduced  to  the  bare  expression  of  a 
logical  formula. 


OF  VONDEL. 


UPWARD  AND  ONWARD. 


But  we  must  again  make  brief  reference  to  the 
friends  of  our  poet,  who  one  by  one  preceded 
him  to  the  grave.  First  Reael  died.  Then 
Hooft  and  Barlseus  soon  followed,  and  were 
both  buried  in  the  New  Church  at  Amsterdam. 
Above  the  tomb  of  each  Vondel  wrote  a  short 
epitaph.  But  the  keenest  loss  was  yet  to  come. 
In  1649  Holland  lost  the  brightest  jewel  in  the 
crown  of  her  womanhood,  and  Vondel,  his 
dearest  friend.  Tesselschade,  after  many  sor- 
rows, entered  peacefully  into  rest. 

A  few  years  before  she  had  had  the  misfortune 
to  lose  her  left  eye  from  a  spark  that  flew  out 
of  a  smithy  as  she  passed.  She  bore  this  sad  ac- 
cident with  cheerfulness  ;  but  a  greater  calam- 
ity yet  awaited  her.  The  pride  of  her  heart,  her 
one  remaining  child,  her  beautiful  daughter  Tes- 
selschade, was  suddenly  cut  off  in  the  bloom 
of  maidenhood.  The  disconsolate  mother 
struggled  in  vain  against  this  terrible  sorrow. 
A  year  later  she  followed  her  loved  ones  to  the 
tomb.  She,  also,  was  laid  away  in  the  New 
Church,  by  the  side  of  the  dead  Titans  of  her 
generation  who  had  so  often  made  her  the 
theme  of  their  inspired  song ;  where,  too, 
Vondel  himself,  the  greatest  of  them  all,  was 
eventually  to  lie. 

103 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

For  Vondel's  beautiful  threnody  we  have 
unfortunately  no  space,  but  shall  content  our- 
selves with  quoting  the  first  strophe  of  Huy- 
ghens'  touching  elegy : 

"  Here  Tesselschade  lies. 
Let  no  one  rashly  dare 

To  give  the  measure  of  her  worth  beyond  compare; 
Her  glory,  like  the  sun's,  the  poet's  pen  defies." 

Shortly  after  the  death  of  his  dear  friend, 
Vondel  gave  up  his  hosiery  shop  in  the  War- 
moesstraat  to  his  son,  while  he  himself  went  to 
live  with  his  daughter  Anna  on  the  Cingel,  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  city.  The  poet  was  now 
sixty-two  years  of  age,  and  he  doubtless  thought 
to  end  his  days  in  peace  and  studious  retire- 
ment. But  the  battle  of  life  for  him  had  only 
just  begun.  He  was  never  to  know  the  mean- 
ing of  rest. 

About  this  time  Vondel  again  had  occasion 
for  his  tremendous  invective.  We  refer  to  his 
remarkable  series  of  satires  against  the  anti- 
royalists  of  Great  Britain. 

His  odes  on  "The  Regicides  of  England," 
"  Charles  Stuart's  Murdered  Majesty,"  "  Pro- 
tector Werewolf"  (Cromwell),  "The  Flag  of 
Scotland,"  and  many  other  poems  on  the  same 
subject,  breathe  the  very  spirit  of  war,  and  glow 
with  the  same  intense  indignation  and  righteous 

104 


OF  VONDEL. 

wrath  that  characterize  the  productions  of  John 
Milton  on  the  other  side.  These  fierce  polemics, 
winged  with  rime,  were  very  popular  in  Hol- 
land, where  the  cause  of  the  royalists  was 
favored. 

But  it  was  the  Catholic,  no  less  than  the  roy- 
alist, who  spoke  in  these  seething  satires.  That 
Vondel  the  republican  should  assume  such  a 
fierce  attitude  against  the  would-be  republicans 
of  England  can  only  be  explained  by  his  fear 
that  in  England,  even  as  in  Holland,  canting 
bigotry  would  now  usurp  the  altars  of  religion, 
and  there,  with  unholy  zeal,  sacrifice  the  soul 
of  art  and  the  spirit  of  liberty. 

Or  was  it  an  intuitive  dread  of  a  republican 
and  Puritan  England  that  made  the  Hollander 
seize  these  firebrands  from  his  kindling  wrath  ? 
It  may  be,  for  the  Commonwealth  was  not  at  all 
friendly  towards  her  sister  republic,  and  ere 
long  the  Protector  dealt  the  naval  supremacy 
of  the  Dutch  a  blow  from  which  they  never 
recovered. 

In  1648  Vondel  celebrated  the  Treaty  of 
Munster  by  his  "  Leeuwendalers,"  a  pastoral 
drama  in  the  style  of  Guarini's  "  Pastor  Fido  ;" 
and  more  charming  pastoral  surely  never  was 
written,  with  not  one  note  of  strife,  not  one 
strident  trumpet  blast,  to  jar  upon  its  harmony. 

The  "  Leeuwendalers  "  is  a  fitting  monument 

105 


I 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

to  the  heroism  of  the  patriots  whose  magnifi- 
cent struggle  of  eighty-four  years  against  the 
overwhelming  tyranny  of  Spain  had  at  last  been 
rewarded  by  this  glorious  peace. 

Not  long  afterwards,  he  wrote  his  excellent 
epitaph  on  that  brave  old  sea-dog,  Martin 
Tromp.     Save  among  the  clergy,  Vondel's  Ro-  I 

manism  seemed  now  no  longer  to  cause  much 
comment. 

The  tragedy  of  "  Solomon,"  Vondel's  following 
drama,  was  remarkable  for  its  opulence.  At 
this  time,  also,  his  fiery  denunciation  of  the 
Stadtholder  William  II.  and  his  party  for  their 
attack  upon,  and  their  unsuccessful  attempt 
against,  the  ancient  privileges  of  Amsterdam 
did  much  to  reestablish  him  in  the  good  graces 
of  his  fellow  citizens. 

THE   SUMMIT. 

On  October  20,  1653,  one  hundred  leading 
painters,  poets,  architects,  and  sculptors  of  the 
city  of  Amsterdam,  known  as  the  Guild  of  St. 
Luke,  assembled  in  the  hall  of  the  Order  for  their 
anniversary  celebration.  This  was  the  historic 
Feast  of  St.  Luke,  and  Vondel  was  the  honored 
guest  of  the  occasion. 

The  poet  was  placed  at  one  end  of  the  table, 
on  a  high  chair,  which  was  to  represent  a  throne. 

106 


( 


OF  VONDEL. 

Here  he  was  crowned  with  laurel  as  the  "  Sympo- 
siarch,"  or  "  King  of  the  Feast,"  it  is  said,  by 
the  great  painter  Bartholomew  van  der  Heist. 
Thus  Apollo  and  Apelles  were  happily  united 
in  the  bond  of  a  common  sj^mpathy,  and  all 
petty  dissensions  were  forgotten  in  the  triumph 
of  art.  Poems  were  read,  toasts  were  made  ; 
the  ceremonies,  as  is  usual  at  all  the  feasts  of 
the  Hollanders,  closing  with  their  national 
anthem — "  the  grand  Wilhelmus  " — the  most  af- 
fecting and  sublime  of  all  national  odes,  calling 
up,  as  it  does,  memories  of  a  hundred  years  of 
martyrdom  and  of  the  heroic  founder  of  the 
Republic. 

It  was  the  proudest  moment  of  the  poet's 
life  ;  and  we  can  imagine  the  depth  of  his  emo- 
tion as  the  glorious  laurel  graced  his  battle- 
furrowed  brow.  Perhaps,  too,  the  romantic 
face  of  Rembrandt  was  near  by,  drinking  in  with 
his  thirsty  eyes  the  picturesque  beauty  of  the 
scene,  unconscious  of  the  crown  which  fickle 
destiny  had  reserved  for  him.  Or  it  may  be 
that  the  thoughtful  youth  Spinoza,  silent  and 
abstemious,  found  there  some  theme  for  his 
revolutionary  philosophy. 

Yet  Vondel  was  king  of  them  all  ;  crowned 
with  a  kingship  won  by  prodigies  of  valor  on 
the  battle-field  of  life.  Every  leaf  in  that  laurel 
wreath  was  purchased  by  a  thorn.       But  who 

107 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

thinks  of  the  sharpness  of  the  thorn  when  ca-  [ 

ressed  by  the  velvet  of  the  leaf  ? 

So  Vondel,  in  that  moment  of  triumph,  forgot  j 

his  sorrows  in  his  cup  of  joy,  as  he  drained  the  . 

sweet  present  to  the  dregs,/  I 

In  return  for  the  honor  it  had  done  him, 
Vondel  dedicated  his  prose  translation  of  the  I 

Odes  of  Horace  to  the  hospitable  Guild.  He 
was  now  sixty-six  years  old,  and  was  yet  in  the 
possession  of  every  bodily  and  mental  power. 
He  was  now  to  give  forth  his  masterpiece — a  work 
for  which  his  whole  life  had  been  a  constant 
preparation.     We  come  to  the  "  Lucifer." 

This  tragedy  appeared  in  1654  and  was  the 
monumental  creation  of  this  combatant  poet, 
the  crystallization  of  the  Titanic  passions  of 
the  age.  It  has,  therefore,  a  significance  that 
can  never  fade. 

On  account  of  the  character  of  the  play, 
which  naturally  treats  of  holy  subject  matter, 
the  clergy  at  once  gave  it  the  benefit  of  their 
most  strenuous  opposition,  saying  that  it  was 
full  of  "  unholy,  unchaste,  idolatrous,  false,  and 
utterly  depraved  things." 

Through  their  meddlesome  interference,  the 
"  Lucifer,"  after  it  had  twice  been  presented  on 
the  stage,  was  interdicted. 

As  a  matter  of  course  this  caused  it  to  be  the 
subject  of  much  comment,  and  the  first  edition 

108 


OF  VONDEL. 

of  one  thousand  was  sold  in  a  week.  Petrus 
Wittewrongel,  a  native  of  Zealand,  was  the 
most  conspicuous  among  the  opponents  of  this 
play.  His  opposition,  however,  extended  to 
the  drama  in  general,  making  it  the  theme  of 
every  sermon.  According  to  this  Dutch  Puri- 
tan, the  theatre  was  "  a  school  of  idleness,  a 
mount  of  idolatry,  a  relic  of  paganism,  leading 
to  sin,  godlessness,  impurity,  and  frivolity  ;  a 
mere  waste  of  time."  This  bittter  attack  on 
his  beloved  art  gave  the  occasion  for  Vondel's 
famous  vindication  of  the  drama  in  his  proem 
to  the  "  Lucifer." 

He  also  wrote  two  biting  satirical  poems, 
"  The  Passing  of  Orpheus,"  and  the  "  Rivalry 
of  Apollo  and  Pan,"  both  of  which  were  full  of 
humorous  raillery  and  of  sarcastic  allusions  to 
the  round-heads  in  general  and  to  Wittewrongel 
in  particular. 

The  force  of  the  "  Lucifer  "  as  a  picture  of  \ 
the  age,  of  the  nation,  and  of  the  world,  was 
instantly  felt.  It  was  a  classic  from  the  day  of 
its  birth  ;  and  from  that  time  to  this  it  has 
easily  maintained  its  position  as  the  grandest 
poem  of  the  language. 

The  costly  and  artistic  scenic  heavens  espe- 
cially prepared  for  the  "  Lucifer  "  were,  now  that 
the  play  was  forbidden,  stored  away  as  useless 
— a  great  loss  to  the  managers  of  the  theatre. 

109 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

Vondel  accordingly  wrote  his  excellent  tragedy 
**  Salmoneus,"  founded  upon  the  classic  story 
of  the  Jove-defying  King  of  Elis,  in  which 
this  scene,  as  an  imitated  heaven,  could  also  be 
used. 

His  "Psalms  of  David,"  in  various  metres, 
was  his  next  venture.  These  he  dedicated  to 
Queen  Christina  of  Sweden,  who,  like  the  poet 
himself,  was  a  proselyte  to  the  Catholic  faith. 
He  also  honored  her  with  a  panegyric,  in  return 
for  which  the  queen  sent  him  a  golden  locket 
and  chain. 

In  1657  we  find  the  poet  making  another 
journey  to  Denmark,  where  he  went  to  fulfil 
the  unpleasant  duty  of  paying  his  son's  debts. 
In  Denmark  he  was  the  recipient  of  consider- 
able attention,  and  while  there  his  portrait  was 
painted  by  the  celebrated  Dutch  artist  Karl 
van  Mander,  who  was  painter  to  the  Danish 
court. 

THE   SHADOWS. 

Soon  after  his  return  to  Amsterdam,  the  great 
poet  who  had  celebrated  so  many  distinguished 
personages,  and  who  had  become  the  pride  of 
his  nation,  was,  by  the  bankruptcy  of  his  profli- 
gate son,  brought  to  the  very  verge  of  poverty. 

Besides  the  little  Constantine,  whose  early 
death   we   have   elsewhere    recorded,   the    poet 


OF  VONDEL. 

had  three  children  :  one  son,  Justus,  and  two 
daughters,  Sarah  and  Anna.  Sarah  died  in 
childhood,  and  Anna,  who  was  said  to  resemble 
her  father  both  in  intellect  and  in  appearance, 
lived  with  him,  and  was  ever  a  loving  and  de- 
voted daughter.  The  son,  "  Joost,"  was  both 
stupid  and  dissolute.  His  ignorance  was  so 
great  that,  when  some  one  spoke  of  his  father's 
tragedy,  "Joseph  in  Egypt,"  he  inquired  if 
Joseph  was  not  also  a  Catholic.  During  the  life 
of  his  first  wife,  a  woman  of  some  force,  this 
unworthy  son  of  a  distinguished  sire  kept 
within  due  bounds.  Shortly  after  her  death, 
however,  he  was  united  to  a  shallow  spendthrift 
with  whom  he  wasted  his  substance  in  riotous 
living,  while  the  shop,  of  course,  was  neglected  ; 
and  the  business,  in  consequence,  soon  ruined. 

At  this  the  old  man  was  so  grieved  that,  with 
his  daughter,  who  was  yet  with  him,  he  moved 
away  to  another  part  of  the  city. 

Here  he  was  many  times  heard  to  say,  **  Had 
I  not  the  comfort  and  the  quickening  of  the 
Psalms" — of  which  at  that  time  he  was  making 
his  version — "I  should  die  in  my  misery."  He 
often  also  said  to  his  friends,  "  Name  no  child 
by  your  own  name ;  for  if  he  should  not  turn 
out  well  it  is  forever  branded." 

In  the  meantime  the  son  went  from  bad  to 
worse.     He  squandered  not  only  all  of  his  own 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

property,  but  also  much  that  had  been  intrusted 
into  his  hands  by  others. 

He  stood  on  the  point  of  bankruptcy,  with 
the  penalty  of  imprisonment  staring  him  in 
the  face,  when  his  father,  with  a  keen  sense  of 
honor  and  of  family  pride,  satisfied  all  creditors 
by  the  sacrifice  of  his  own  snug  little  fortune 
of  forty  thousand  guldens,  the  savings  of  half  a 
century. 

Friends  of  the  family  advised  the  erring  son 
to  go  to  the  Dutch  Colonies  in  the  East  Indies, 
there  to  begin  life  anew.  But  he  obstinately 
refused  even  to  listen  to  such  a  proposition, 
and  continued  his  wild  career  unchecked.  The 
unhappy  father  was  finally  compelled  to  ask  the 
Burgomaster  of  the  city  to  use  the  gentle  com- 
pulsion of  the  law,  which  was  done. 

There  are  few  sadder  pictures  in  the  history 
of  letters  than  that  of  the  old  gray-haired  poet, 
bowed  down  with  this  greatest  of  all  griefs,  the 
heart-crushing  realization  of  being  the  parent  of 
ungrateful  and  criminal  offspring,  standing  on 
the  quay,  and  bidding,  with  bitter  agony,  his 
unfeeling  child  a  last  farewell.  We  imagine 
the  tear-bedimmed  eyes  of  the  heart-broken 
father  straining  for  one  more  glimpse  of  the 
unworthy  but  yet  beloved  son,  who,  in  the  far 
horizon,  was  perhaps  even  then  carelessly  walk- 
ing the  deck  of  the  departing  ship,  meditating 


OF  VONDEL. 

some  new  and  disgraceful  profligacy  upon  his 
arrival  in  India.  Fortunately  he  died  on  the 
journey,  and  the  poet  was  doubtless  spared 
much  suffering.  Too  bitterly  had  Vondel 
learned,  even  as  Lear,  "  How  sharper  than  a 
serpent's  tooth  it  is  to  have  a  thankless  child  !  "^ 

Of  Vondel's  fortune  nothing  remained  save 
the  portion  that  his  daughter  Anna  had  in- 
herited from  her  mother,  which  was,  however, 
by  no  means  sufficient  to  support  them  both. 
What  was  to  be  done?  All  that  the  old  man 
could  do  was  to  write  verses — an  art  which  as 
an  income-producer  was  well  characterized  by 
Ovid's  father:  '•^  Scepe pater  dixit :  studimn  quid 
inutile  tentas  ?  Mcsonides  nullas  ipse  reliqiiit  opes'' 

Although  the  poet,  in  his  pride,  did  not  let 
his  want  become  known,  some  of  his  friends 
who  knew  the  state  of  affairs  secured  him  a 
position  as  clerk  in  the  Bank  of  Loan  at  a 
salary  of  six  hundred  and  fifty  guldens  a  year. 
Thus  the  greatest  Dutchman  of  the  age  and  the 
most  illustrious  poet  of  his  country  was  com- 
pelled, after  a  life  of  comparative  leisure  and 
comfort,  at  the  age  of  seventy,  to  earn  his  living 
by  the  sweat  of  his  brow,  forced  to  engage  in  a 
labor  which  to  him  must  have  been  peculiarly 
irksome. 

The  pen  which  had  been  accustomed  to  the 
soaring  style  of  tragedy  was  now  chained  to  the 

"3 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

dreary  monotony  of  the  ledger ;  the  quill  that 
had  so  often  stung  a  nation  to  the  quick  was 
now  tamely  employed  in  the  prosaic  balance  of 
debit  and  credit. 

It  is  said  that  the  poet,  however,  found  it 
impossible  to  restrain  his  muse  entirely,  and 
that  he  sometimes  mounted  his  Pegasus  even 
in  the  dull  interior  of  the  counting-room  ;  for 
he  employed  his  leisure  moments — let  us  hope 
there  were  many — in  writing  verses. 

It  has  been  said,  too,  that  he  was  repri- 
manded for  this  by  his  employers  ;  but  of  this 
there  is  no  proof  whatever. 

Indeed,  Brandt  goes  out  of  his  way  to  say 
that  this  was  overlooked  on  account  of  his  age, 
and  because  he  was  a  poet,  and  could  therefore 
not  be  expected  to  pay  such  strict  attention  to 
business. 

It  would  be  easy  enough  to  indulge  in  a  little 
sympathetic  bathos  here.  The  poet's  fate  was 
indeed  a  hard  one.  Yet  his  salary,  small  enough, 
it  is  true,  when  we  consider  the  man  and  his 
career,  was  not  the  beggarly  pittance  that  the 
same  amount  would  be  now.  Six  hundred  and 
fifty  guldens  in  the  Holland  of  that  day  would 
be  equivalent  to  at  least  three  thousand  guldens 
in  the  nineteenth-century  Amsterdam,  or  a  sal- 
ary of  twenty-five  hundred  dollars  in  New  York. 

Furthermore,  this  was  the  only  hard  mercan- 

"4 


OF  VONDEL. 

tile  work  that  the  poet  ever  did.  The  ten  years 
of  drudgery  in  his  old  age  compensated  for  a 
life-time  of  leisure  and  literary  retirement  ;  for 
after  his  marriage  at  twenty-six,  the  poet  hosier 
wisely  left  his  business  affairs  in  the  hands  of  his 
energetic  and  trustworthy  wife.  Soon  after  her 
death  the  business  devolved  on  "  Joost  "  the 
younger,  with  the  disastrous  results  already 
narrated. 

At  the  age  of  eighty  the  old  bard  was  given 
an  honorable  discharge,  with  full  pay,  the  cir- 
cumstances of  which  were  not  without  pathos. 
When  told  that  he  was  discharged,  and  that 
another  had  been  found  to  take  his  place,  the 
poet  was  dumbfounded  and  became  very  sad. 
But  when  he  learned  that  his  discharge  was 
an  honorable  one,  with  a  pension,  the  heaviness 
left  him,  and  he  seemed  greatly  pleased. 

Never,  however,  was  Vondel  so  near  the 
brow  of  Parnassus  as  during  these  ten  bitter 
years.  For  this  is  the  period  of  his  greatest 
literary  activity.  It  was  then  that  his  genius 
ripened  into  its  full  maturity. 

Among  other  works  produced  during  this 
decade  were  his  "  Jephtha,"  a  tragedy,  with 
which  he  himself  was  much  pleased,  as  fulfilling 
every  requirement  of  the  classic  drama  ;  his 
metrical  translations  of  the  "  CEdipus  Rex," 
"  Iphigenia  in  Tauris,"  and    the    "  Trachiniae  " 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

of  Sophocles  ;  the  tragedies,  "  David  in  Exile  " 
and  "  David  Restored,"  allegories  in  which  the 
exile  and  the  restoration  of  Charles  11.  were 
clearly  set  forth  ;  "  Adonis,"  "  Batavian  Broth- 
ers," "Faeton,"  and  "  Zungchin,  or,  the  Fall  of 
the  Chinese  Empire."  Of  special  interest  also, 
and  of  unusual  literary  merit,  is   his   tragedy,  ► 

"  Samson,"  which,  even  as  Milton's  "  Samson 
Agonistes,"  was  perhaps  more  largely  bio- 
graphical than  any  other  of  his  poems.  The 
points  of  similarity  between  this  drama  and 
Milton's   tragedy  also   are  many  and    remark-  1 

able.  * 

But  the  two  most  important  tragedies  of  this 
period  were  his  "  Adam  in  Exile "  and  the 
"  Noah,"  which  together  with  the  "  Lucifer " 
form  a  grand  trilogy.  The  "Adam,"  especially, 
only  less  sublime  than  the  latter,  has  more  of 
idyllic  beauty,  and  as  a  whole  is  scarcely  inferior 
in  power.  Here,  too,  the  choruses  blend  with 
the  action,  and  are  unsurpassed  for  melody, 
sweetness,  and  tenderness,  proclaiming  their 
author  as  the  foremost  lyrist  of  his  nation. 

THE   VALLEY. 

Vondel  was  the  author  of  no  less  than  thirty- 
three  tragedies.  Only  eighteen  of  these,  how- 
ever, were  presented  on  the  stage.     Some  were 

ii6 


OF  VONDEL. 

deemed  objectionable  on  account  of  their  Bib- 
lical subject  matter;  others  because  of  their 
leaning  towards  Catholicism. 

The  dramatist  also  suffered  from  the  jealousy 
of  his  rivals.  One  of  these,  Jan  Vos,  was  one 
of  the  managers  of  the  theatre,  and  attempted 
to  make  Vondel's  plays  unpopular  by  assigning 
the  most  important  roles  to  inferior  players, 
and  also  by  using  old  and  worn-out  costumes. 
No  wonder,  then,  that  the  sweeping  tragedies  of 
this  master  spirit  began  to  lose  favor  with  the 
masses,  and  that  the  translations  of  the  French 
and  Spanish  plays  that  now  flooded  the  coun- 
try, with  their  extravagant  scenery  and  their 
flashy  innovations,  usurped  their  place. 

A  few  years  before  his  death,  Vondel  paid  a 
visit  to  the  town  of  his  birth,  Cologne,  and 
there  saw  the  very  house  where  he  was  born. 
With  a  poet's  whim  he  climbed  into  the  old 
wall  bedstead  in  which  he  was  brought  into  the 
world,  which,  of  course,  also  furnished  inspira- 
tion for  a  poem. 

Brief  mention  must  also  be  made  of  Vondel's 
last  religious  poems.  His  sublime  "  Reflections 
on  God  and  Religion,"  which  was  written  in 
opposition  to  the  Epicurean  and  Lucretian 
philosophy  of  Descartes  ;  his  "  John,  the  Mes- 
senger of  Repentance,"  which  glows  with  all 
the  fervor  and  the  grandeur  of  the  Apocalypse  ; 

117 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

his  "  Glory  of  the  Church,"  a  work  as  learned 
as  it  was  elevated,  which  shows  the  rise  and 
progress  of  the  Mother  Church,  would  alone  be 
sufficient  to  entitle  Vondel  to  be  considered  as 
one  of  the  great  religious  poets  of  the  world, 
and  perhaps  the  most  powerful  champion  of 
Catholicism  that  ever  entered  the  lists  of  con- 
troversy. 

At  the  age  of  eighty-four,  Vondel  translated 
Ovid's  "  Metamorphoses  "  and  also  wrote  a 
great  number  of  poems  of  all  kinds — epigrams, 
lyrics,  letters,  lampoons,  dedications,  eulogies, 
threnodies,  hymns,  epithalamiums,  riddles,  and 
epitaphs — in  all  of  which  his  pen,  sharpened 
by  the  practice  of  nearly  three-fourths  of  a 
century,  excelled. 

To  the  last  the  aged  poet  preserved  his  in- 
tense satiric  vein.  The  fire  of  his  spirit  burned 
as  fiercely  now  as  in  the  days  of  his  youth. 
One  of  the  last  poems  written  by  those  aged 
fingers  was  his  noble  elegy  on  the  distinguished 
brothers  De  Witt,  who,  in  1672,  were  assassi- 
nated in  The  Hague  by  a  frenzied  mob. 

His  last  production  was  an  epithalamium  on 
the  marriage  of  his  favorite  niece,  Agnes  Blok. 
He  was  then  eighty-seven  years  old.  His 
physician  having  cautioned  him  to  rest  his 
brain,  he  now  bade  the  Muses,  whom  he  had 
known    so    long,    and    whom   he  had  found  so 

118 


OF  VONDEL. 

sweet  a  comfort  in  his  hours  of  sorrow,  an  eter- 
nal farewell. 

His  health,  however,  remained  good  until  a 
few  days  before  his  death.  His  legs  first 
showed  signs  of  weakness,  and  refused  longer 
to  support  him.  His  memory  also  failed  him, 
and  he  would  often  stop  still  in  the  midst  of  a 
sentence.  When  he  was  made  aware  of  this, 
he  was  somewhat  distressed,  for  his  judgment 
remained  unimpaired  to  the  last,  saying,  "  I  am 
no  longer  capable  of  carrying  on  a  conversation 
with  my  friends." 

Brandt,  to  whom  we  are  indebted  for  most  of 
these  interesting  particulars  concerning  Vondel, 
and  other  friends  cheered  his  last  days  with 
their  visits.  The  poet,  who  now  spent  most  of 
his  waking  hours  by  the  cheerful  blaze  of  his 
hearth,  seemed  to  appreciate  this  very  highly, 
and  whenever  they  were  about  to  leave,  would 
tell  them  good-by  with  a  hearty  pressure  of  the 
hand.  Here,  too,  came  Antonides,  that  brilliant 
young  poet,  so  untimely  cut  off,  and  the  painter, 
Philip  de  Koning,  both  of  whom  the  old  bard 
admired  greatly. 

When  in  his  ninetieth  year  he  had  himself 
taken  to  the  houses  of  the  two  Burgomasters  of 
the  city,  whom  with  broken  words  he  begged 
to  provide  for  his  grandson  Justus,  who  bore 
his  name,  and   whose  prospects,  on  account  of 

119 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

his  father's  profligacy  and  his  grandfather's 
poverty,  were  anything  but  promising.  The 
city  fathers  comforted  the  poor  old  man  with 
good  words,  and  he  returned  to  his  corner  by 
the  hearth,  never  again  to  leave  it  alive. 

"  Old  age,"  says  Brandt,  "  was  now  his  ill- 
ness ;  the  oil  was  lacking ;  the  fire  must  go 
out."  His  limbs  became  cold  and  refused  to 
be  warmed.  Referring  to  this  a  few  days 
before  his  death,  he  remarked  to  Brandt,  with 
a  humorous  twinkle  in  his  large  brown  eyes: 
"You  might  give  me  this  epitaph  : 

"  Here  in  peace  lies  Vondel  old  ; 
He  died  because  he  was  so  cold." 

This  was  the  old  poet's  last  rhyme,  surely  an 
humble  one  for  him  whose  lofty  imagery  and 
sublime  conceptions  are  the  wonder  of  his 
countrymen.  He  also  said  to  his  niece,  Agnes 
Blok,  "  I  do  not  long  for  death."  She  asked, 
"  Do  you  not  long  for  eternal  life  ?  "  He  re- 
plied :  "  Aye,  I  do  long  for  that  ;  but,  like  Eli- 
jah, I  would  fain  fly  thither."  Though  now  he 
also  began  to  say  :  "  Pray  for  me  that  God  will 
take  me  out  of  this  life."  And  when  those 
standing  around  his  bedside  asked  :  "  Are  you 
ready  now  for  the  terrible  messenger  to  come  ?  " 
he  replied,  "  Aye,  let  him  come ;  for,  even 
though  I  wait  longer,  Elijah's  chariot  will  not 

I20 


OF  VONDEL. 

descend.  I  shall  have  to  go  in  at  the  common 
gate. 

After  an  illness  of  only  eight  days,  on  Feb- 
ruary 5,  1679,  about  half-past  four  in  the  morn- 
ing, the  old  bard  fell  asleep.  He  seemed  to  be 
wholly  free  from  pain,  and  died  so  softly  that 
the  friends  who  stood  around  his  bedside 
scarcely  observed  it. 

Vondel  was  aged  ninety-one  years,  two 
months,  and  nineteen  days.  He  was  nearly 
double  the  age  of  the  world's  greatest  drama- 
tist, was  seventeen  years  older  than  Euripides, 
and  just  as  old  as  Sophocles. 

Three  days  after  his  death  he  was  buried  in 
the  Nieuvve  Kerk — the  Church  of  St.  Catherine 
— at  Amsterdam,  not  far  from  the  choir.  Four- 
teen poets  were  the  pall-bearers  who  carried  the 
great  master  to  his  last  resting-place.  Around 
his  grave  were  the  tombs  of  most  of  his  literary 
friends  of  former  years.  Here  lay  Hooft  and 
Barlaeus  and  Tesselschade.  Here,  too,  was  the 
tomb  of  the  noble  de  Ruyter,  his  country's 
most  illustrious  naval  hero.  Here,  among  this 
company  of  distinguished  dead,  among  these 
sculptured  busts  and  mediaeval  effigies,  these 
monumental  tombs  and  glorious  cenotaphs, 
this  greatest  of  all  Hollanders  was  buried  in  a 
simple  grave,  unmarked  by  even  an  epitaph. 
Three    years    afterwards     Joan    Six,    one    of 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

the  Aldermen  of  the  city,  had  the  following 
time-verse  (which  gives  the  year  of  his  death) 
engraved  upon  the  stone: 

To  THE  Oldest  and  Greatest  Poet. 
VIr  phcebo  et  MVsIs  GratVs  VonDeLIVs  hIC  est 
VI  MV  I  V     V      D  LIV       IC 

6  1005  I  5      5     5005015      iioo 


1679 


Shortly  after  his  decease,  Antonides,  Vollen- 
hove,  and  others  of  the  younger  poets  also 
honored  him  with  eulogies  as  the  first  poet  of 
his  age.  To  the  pall-bearers  a  medallion  was 
given,  on  one  side  of  which  was  the  image  of 
the  poet ;  on  the  other,  a  singing  swan,  with  the 
year  of  Vondel's  birth  and  death,  and  the  in- 
scription :  "  The  oldest  and  greatest  poet."  i 

i 

his'  person  and  character. 

Vondel  was  of  medium  height,  with  a  figure 
well  made  and  compact.  His  countenance  was 
one  of  remarkable  intelligence,  and  was  charac-  j 

terized   by  an   expression  at  once  earnest  and 
exalted.  1 

In  early  life  his  face  was  pale  and  thin,  but 
later,  after  the  disappearance  of  his  strange 
malady,   it    became    broad   and    full,  and  of  a 


OF  VONDEL, 

healthful  color,  with  glowing  red  cheeks.  His 
forehead,  not  too  high,  was  broad  and  com- 
manding, a  fit  arsenal  for  those  thunderbolts  of 
invective  that  he  knew  so  well  how  to  em- 
ploy. One  of  his  eyebrows  was  slightly  higher 
than  the  other.  Beneath  them  glowed  two 
deep  brown  eyes,  large  and  penetrating — eagle 
eyes,  full  of  fire,  as  if,  naively  says  his  biographer, 
"he  had  satires  in  his  head."  His  nose  was 
sensitive  and  somewhat  large  ;  his  mouth  of 
medium  size,  with  rather  thin  lips.  He  usually 
wore  his  hair  short,  his  ears  only  half  covered. 
On  his  chin  grew  a  small  pointed  beard,  in  early 
manhood  a  dark  brown,  later  white  with  age. 
Altogether  a  figure  striking  and  noble,  if  not 
grand  and  imposing — one  that  long  acquaint- 
ance would  only  render  the  more  impressive, 
for  it  was  stamped  with  character.  Thus  the 
outward  man  !  Would  you  learn  the  stature  of 
his  soul?     Read  his  magnificent  works. 

Strange  to  say,  he  who  was  so  full  of  thought 
and  spirit  in  his  writings  was  still  and  silent  in 
the  presence  of  others.  Once  when  dining  with 
Grotius,  Vossius,  and  Barlaeus — the  three  most 
learned  men  of  the  age— it  is  related  that  dur- 
ing the  course  of  the  whole  meal  the  poet  said 
not  one  word.  He  was  usually  grave  and  taci- 
turn. When  he  did  speak,  however,  he  was 
intense  and  pointed. 

123 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

He  was  ever  modest  in  his  deportment  and 
temperate  in  his  habits.  Though  living  in  an 
age  of  good  fellowship  and  of  royal  tippling, 
when  post-prandial  drunkenness  was  the  rule 
rather  than  the  exception,  he  was  never  known 
to  have  indulged  to  excess.  Like  Dante,  Mil- 
ton, and  Petrarch,  furthermore,  his  private  life 
was  pure.  Not  one  accuser  ever  threw  mud  at 
its  whiteness. 

His  clothes,  though  in  the  fashion  and  in 
good  taste,  were  always  plain  and  unassuming. 
He  enjoyed  the  society  of  artists  and  men  of 
letters,  learning,  and  judgment.  He  was  ex- 
tremely popular  among  his  relatives,  which 
speaks  well  for  his  heart,  and  is  surely  a  good 
index  to  his  true  character. 

Vondel  was  a  true  friend,  and  was  ever  ready 
to  prove  his  devotion,  if  need  be,  by  the  sacrifice 
of  blood  and  treasure.  Such  a  romantic  attach- 
ment as  that  of  Dante  for  Beatrice  was  doubt- 
less unknown  to  our  poet.  His  was  the  more 
natural  ardor  of  a  deep-seated  affection.  Yet 
he  had  the  capacity  for  suffering  so  character- 
istic of  genius.  We  know  that,  like  William  HI., 
he  was  profoundly  affected  by  the  death  of  his 
wife.  For  several  years,  indeed,  he  was  in  such 
a  melancholy  that  his  thoughts  fell  still-born 
from  his  pen.  He  wrote  little,  and  destroyed 
all  that  he  wrote.     Life  had  lost  all  charms  for 

124 


OF  VONDEL. 

him.  He  was,  however,  awakened  from  this 
reverie  of  sorrow  by  the  bugle  blast  of  war ; 
and  only  in  the  roar  of  the  conflict  did  he  forget 
the  sting  of  grief. 

Vondel  was  in  no  sense  a  theologian,  and 
had  no  patience  with  hair-splitting  distinctions. 
Though  a  fervid  Catholic,  his  toleration  is 
shown  by  his  remark  that  he  would  not  "  sit  in 
the  Inquisition  as  a  judge  of  anyone's  life." 

"  There  were  some  hot-headed  Papists,"  he 
said,  "  who  persecuted  the  pious  of  other 
creeds.  It  is  also  true  that  the  Papists  of  all 
time  have  sought  to  rule  the  consciences  of 
men.  However,  some  reformers  are  lately  fol- 
lowing in  their  footsteps."  In  regard  to  the 
wonderful  legends  of  the  early  Church,  he  re- 
marked that  they  were  "  monkish  fables  written 
in  the  dark  ages  for  the  ignorant  people."  That 
his  Catholicism  had  not  lessened  his  love  for 
freedom  or  for  his  country  his  later  poems 
bear  excellent  witness. 

Though  by  his  bitter  lampoons  and  severe 
invective  he  had  made  many  enemies  during 
the  course  of  his  long  career,  yet  his  popularity 
is  seen  in  the  fact  that  his  memory  was  honored 
by  men  of  all  creeds  and  parties.  The  Jesuits 
of  Antwerp  placed  his  portrait  in  their  cloister 
among  the  most  illustrious  men  of  ancient  and 
modern  times. 

125 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

He  had  gathered  no  riches  with  his  poetry. 
On  the  contrary,  his  losses  were  far  greater 
than  his  gains.  The  most  costly  gift  ever  given 
him  was  the  golden  locket  and  chain  from  her 
majesty  Queen  Christina  of  Sweden,  This 
present  was  worth  about  two  hundred  dollars. 
Amelia  von  Solms,  the  widow  of  Frederic 
Henry,  also  honored  him  with  a  gold  medal  for 
a  poem  on  the  marriage  of  her  daughter,  the 
Princess  Henrietta.  For  his  ode  on  the  dedica- 
tion of  the  new  Stadthuis,  the  authorities  of 
Amsterdam  honored  him  with  a  silver  cup.  The 
visiting  Elector  of  one  of  the  German  States 
gave  him,  for  some  verses  in  his  honor,  "  a  small 
sixteen  guldens."  For  his  eulogy  in  honor  of 
the  Archbishop  of  Cologne,  the  city  fathers 
allowed  him  thirty  guldens. 

His  daughter  Anna,  dying  before  him,  willed 
him  her  portion,  which,  with  his  pension,  proved 
amply  sufificient  for  his  maintenance. 

A  few  months  before  his  death  he  had  willed 
all  of  his  books  to  a  certain  priest.  Thinking 
that  if  they  remained  with  him  he  might  injure 
his  feeble  health  by  reading,  he  allowed  them 
to  be  taken  away.  Afterwards,  however,  he 
bitterly  regretted  this,  and,  with  tears  in  his 
eyes,  complained  to  one  of  his  friends  that  all 
of  his  treasures  had  been  stolen,  and  that  now 
nothing  was  left  him. 

126 


OF  VONDEL. 

In  his  youth  his  motto  was:  '*  Lov^e  conquers 
all  things."  Later  he  signed  his  productions 
with  the  word  "  Zeal,"  or  "  Justice  " — the  last 
a  play  on  his  name  ;  sometimes,  also,  with  the 
letters  P.  L.,  mQ3.mr\g  pro  liber tate,  or  with  the 
initials  P.  V.  K. — "  Palamedes  of  Kologne."  In 
some  of  his  works  was  to  be  seen  a  picture  of 
David  playing  a  harp,  with  the  device  "  Justus 
fide  vivit,"  to  which,  of  course,  could  be  given 
a  double  meaning :  "  The  just  man  lives  by 
faith,"  or  "  Justus  lives  by  his  lyre." 

Vondel's  diligence  was  phenomenal.  Once  he 
remarked  in  a  letter  to  a  friend  that  the  height 
of  Parnassus  can  only  be  attained  by  much  pant- 
ing and  sweat,  and  that  attention  and  exercise 
sharpen  the  intellect.  The  multitude  and  the 
excellence  of  his  works  prove  the  worth  of  his 
philosophy. 

His  thirst  for  knowledge  was  extraordinary, 
and  he  left  few  corners  of  that  vast  field  un- 
tilled.  To  learn  the  best  expressions  for  each 
trade  and  profession  he  was  wont  to  question 
all  kinds  and  conditions  of  men  in  regard  to  the 
words  that  they  used  in  their  trade  or  calling. 
Farmers,  carpenters,  masons,  artists,  men  of 
every  business  and  profession  added  to  his 
vocabulary.  He  thus  built  up  the  language, 
and  himself  attained  a  thorough  mastery  over 
his  native  tongue ;  one  never  equalled  by  any 

127 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

of  his  countrymen,  with  the  possible  exception 
of  the  poet  Bilderdyk. 

He  was,  moreover,  always  ready  to  receive 
suggestions  in  regard  to  his  own  productions, 
and  often  read  them  to  his  friends  to  obtain 
the  benefit  of  their  criticism.  This,  however, 
was  more  true  of  his  translations  than  of  his 
originals.  He  took  much  pleasure,  also,  in 
praising  the  work  of  others,  especially  that  of 
the  younger  poets. 

That  he  was  an  excellent  critic  is  shown  by 
his  prose  essays,  though  he  was  too  impression- 
able to  beauty  to  be  very  severe.  He  was 
exceedingly  modest  in  regard  to  his  own  pow- 
ers. He  considered  Hooft  the  foremost  among 
the  Dutch  writers  of  his  age,  not  only  on  ac- 
count of  his  sweet  lyrics  and  stately  tragedies, 
but  also  because  of  his  historical  works. 

Constantine  Huyghens  he  praised  for  his  live- 
liness and  fancy,  his  subtlety,  and  his  wonderful 
versatility.  He  also  thought  highly  of  Anslo  and 
de  Dekker,  and  particularly  of  those  two  young 
giants,  Vollenhove  and  Antonides.  In  "  The 
Y  Stream  "  of  the  latter  he  saw  extraordinary 
promise,  and  he  thenceforth  called  the  younger 
poet  his  son,  and  was  always  most  tender  and 
fatherly  towards  him,  taking  much  delight  in 
his  company.  Of  Vollenhove's  "  Triumph  of 
Christ,"  he  said  :  "There  is  a  great  light  in  that 

128 


OF  VONDEL. 

man,  but  it  is  a  pity  that  he  is  a  clergyman." 
Brandt  he  called  "  a  good  epigrammatist." 

HIS   FEELING   FOR   ART. 

Art  to  Vondel  was  a  revelation  of  the  divine 
in  man,  and  therefore  the  best  promoter  of 
virtue.  Hence  iiis  passion  for  poetry,  and  his 
admiration  for  painting,  music,  and  architec- 
ture. How  fitting  that  he  who  sang  the  union 
of  the  arts  : 

"Blithe  Poesy  and  Painting  fair, 
Two  sisters  debonair," 

should   be   crowned  "  king  of  the  feast  "  by  a 
company  of  fellow  artists  ! 

Vondel  was  the  painter's  poet.  He  wrote 
numerous  inscriptions  for  paintings.  He  praises 
Raphael,  Veronese,  Titian,  Bassano,  Giulo  Ro- 
mano, Lastman,  Sandrart,  Goltzius(the  etcher), 
and  Rubens.  He  apparently  preferred  the 
idealists  of  the  Italian  school,  for  he  says  but 
little  about  the  realists  of  the  day,  Steen,  Os- 
tade,  Brouwer,  and  Teniers;  nor  even  concern- 
ing those  who  copied  nature  like  Douw,  De 
Hoogh,  and  Mutsu.  The  great  Rembrandt  he 
names  but  twice.  In  one  place  he  speaks  of 
the  portrait  of  Cornelis  Anslo,  of  which  he 
tamely  says,  "  The  visible  part    is  the  least  of 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

him,  and  who  would  see  Anslo  must  hear  him." 
He  seems  to  have  been  more  impressed  by  the 
fine  portrait  of  Anna  Wymers,  for  he  says : 
"  Anna  seems  to  be  alive."  Elsewhere,  how- 
ever, he  speaks  of  "the  night-owl,  who  hides 
himself  from  the  day  in  his  shadows  of  cobweb  ;  " 
which  is  thought  to  be  a  covert  reference  to 
that  magnificent  study  in  chiaroscuro,  Rem- 
brandt's "  Night  Patrol."  It  is  certain,  however, 
that  he  did  not  realize  the  powerful  genius  of 
Holland's  greatest  artist. 

Vondel,  the  admirer  of  the  Italian  classics, 
with  their  delicacy  and  regularity,  probably 
could  not  appreciate  the  revolutionary  splen- 
dors of  this  great  magician.  Nor  is  there  any 
evidence  to  show  that  any  friendship  existed 
between  these  two  men,  each  the  undying  glory 
of  his  country.  And  yet  in  some  respects  the 
poet  and  the  painter  were  strikingly  alike. 
Both  were  masters  of  style,  and  grandly  daring 
and  original.  Both  were  in  the  highest  sense 
creative,  and  dealt  in  tremendous  effects,  soar- 
ing from  mountain-top  of  grandeur  into  the 
heaven  of  the  sublime.  Each  was  comprehen- 
sive and  universal ;  each  was  a  personified  mood 
of  his  nation  and  the  maker  of  an  epoch.  Each 
suffered  poverty  in  old  age. 

Yet  in  one  respect  the  painter  had  the  advan- 
tage  over   the  poet.     He  spoke   the  universal 

130 


OF  VONDEL. 

language  of  the  eye,  and  thus  his  message  has 
reached  millions  who  were  deaf  to  his  tongue. 
The  political  obscurity,  on  the  other  hand,  into 
which  little  Holland  was  plunged  so  soon  after 
the  meteoric  blaze  of  her  brief  ascendancy,  con- 
fined her  language  to  her  narrow  territory  ;  and 
Vondel,  equally  worthy  with  Rembrandt  of  the 
admiration  of  the  world,  became  a  sealed  book 
save  to  his  countrymen.  The  former,  however, 
was  the  very  life  of  his  time,  its  recognized 
voice;  the  latter  was  in  his  life  neglected,  to 
become  after  his  death  the  most  illustrious 
of  his  race,  a  name  to  conjure  an  age  out  of 
obscurity. 

Rubens,  on  the  other  hand,  the  poet  fully 
ap.preciated.  In  the  dedication  of  his  drama, 
"The  Brothers,"  1639,  he  calls  the  great  Flem- 
ing "  the  glory  among  the  pencils  of  our  age." 

Music,  we  know,  had  a  powerful  fascination 
for  our  poet.  He  himself  played  the  lute,  while 
his  poetry  throbs  with  the  very  heart  of  mel- 
ody. How  lovingly  he  speaks  of  the  divine 
art  of  song,  that  "  charms  the  soul  out  of  the 
body,  filling  it  with  rare  delight — a  foretaste  of 
the  bliss  of  the  angels  "  ! 

How  keen  must  have  been  his  enjoyment 
when  at  Muiden  he  heard  the  lovely  singers  of 
that  age — the  gifted  Tesselschade  on  her  guitar, 
or  the  talented  harpist,  Christina  van  Erp ;  or 

131 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

when  in  his  home  in  the  Wafmoesstraat  he 
heard  the  patriotic  chimes  of  his  beloved  city 
peahng  the  lingering  hours  into  oblivion  !  How 
profoundly,  too,  must  his  deep,  earnest  soul  have 
been  stirred  by  the  grandeur  of  the  Psalms, 
rising  on  the  wings  of  Zweling's  noble  melodies 
to  the  vaulted  arches  of  the  old  cathedral  where 
he  was  wont  to  worship  ! 

HIS   FEELING   FOR   NATURE. 

The  attitude  of  a  poet  toward  nature  is 
always  of  peculiar  and  absorbing  interest.  Is 
it  because  she  is  the  perpetual  fount  of  ideals, 
because  of  her  voiceless  sympathy  with  his 
ever-changing  mood,  or  because  her  grandeur 
and  loveliness  have  power  to  move  the  deeps  of 
his  soul  ?  However  it  be,  the  poets  have  almost 
without  exception  found  her  the  source  of  their 
inspiration. 

Into  her  rude  confessional  they  pour  the 
unreserved  tale  of  sorrows  that  no  man  can  un- 
derstand ;  and  she  gently  whispers  peace.  At 
her  feet  they  lay  the  guilty  story  of  a  soul ;  the 
love,  the  passions  of  a  heart ;  the  joys,  the 
pains,  the  riotous  thoughts  of  life;  and  she  gen- 
tly whispers  peace.  And  here,  too,  Vondel 
opened  his  heart,  and  here  he  also  obtained 
comfort  for  the  vexing  ills  of  life. 

132 


I 
i 


OF  VONDEL. 

It  has  been  said  that  man's  appreciation  of 
the  beauties  of  nature  is  proportioned  to  the 
degree  of  his  cultivation.  In  the  ruder  ages  in 
Holland,  as  in  Germany,  the  mysterious  forces 
of  the  physical  world  and  their  various  mani- 
festations became  personified  in  the  good  and 
bad  genii  of  the  Teutonic  mythology.  In  pro- 
portion as  the  worship  of  these  genii  ceased, 
nature  became  appreciated  for  its  own  sake.  It 
had  first  to  be  divested  of  the  fear-inspiring 
supernatural.  To  this  Christianity  and  the  ac- 
cumulating discoveries  in  science  largely  con- 
tributed. 

Karel  van  Mander  first  introduced  this  feel- 
ing into  painting ;  and  Hendrik  Spieghel,  into 
literature.  And  then  came  Hooft  and  Vondel, 
who  in  this  respect,  as  in  all  else,  stood  far 
above  their  contemporaries. 

Vondel's  enjoyment  of  nature  is  not  so  keen 
as  that  of  Hooft,  but  it  is  far  deeper  and 
stronger,  and  grew  steadily  to  the  end  of  his 
life.  Now  and  then  his  descriptions  remind 
one  of  the  brooding  landscapes  of  the  "  melan- 
choly Ruysdael ;  "  at  other  times  of  the  creations 
of  Lingelbach  and  Pynacker,  in  those  striking 
scenes  where  Dutch  realism  and  Italian  fancy 
are  oddly  combined. 

Under  the  influence  of  Seneca  and  Du  Bartas, 
according  to  the  artificial  fashion  of  the  day,  he 

133 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

at  first  employed  high-sounding  mythological 
names  as  symbols  for  the  things  themselves ; 
but  he  soon  outgrew  this  classical  affectation. 
Already  in  his  "  Palamedes,"  especially  in  the 
chorus  of  "  Eubeers,"  is  this  feeling  for  nature 
apparent.  This  charming  bucolic  is  the  picture 
of  a  Dutch  landscape.  Elsewhere  we  have 
mentioned  its  resemblance  to  the  "  L'Allegro  " 
of  Milton. 

Like  the  bard  of  Avon,  our  poet  saw  but  lit- 
tle of  the  world.  Twice  he  made  a  business 
trip  to  Denmark,  and  shortly  before  his  death 
he  paid  a  visit  to  Cologne.  In  addition  to  this, 
he  made  several  inland  journeys — one  to  the 
Gooi  : 

"  Where  the  grand  oak  so  thickly  grows 
Beyond  rich  fields,  where  buckwheat  glows." 

To  Vondel  truly  "  the  heavens  declare  the 
glory  of  God,  and  the  firmament  showeth  his 
handiwork."  All  of  his  poems,  particularly  the 
"  Lucifer,"  are  studded  with  figures  of  the  stars. 

The  poet  drew  many  of  his  figures,  too,  from 
animal  life,  as  the  beasts  and  the  birds  in  the 
sustained  Virgilian  similes  in  the  "  Lucifer." 
What  can  be  more  exquisite,  also,  than  his 
verses  on  the  tame  sparrow  of  the  lovely  Su- 
sanne  Bartelot,  in  the  style  of  the  "  Passer,  deli- 
ciae  suae  puellae  "  of  Catullus  ? 

134 


OF  VONDEL. 

The  north  wind  he  calls  "  a  winter-bird,  so  cold 
and  rough."  The  spring  is  his  delight.  He 
is  glad  when  he  sees  men  busy  fishing,  planting, 
and  hunting,  and  engaged  in  all  manner  of  bu- 
colic occupations.  In  the  Norway  pines  un- 
loaded on  the  River  Y,  he  sees  a  forest  of  masts 
from  which  the  tricolor  of  his  dear  country  will 
be  unfurled  in  every  clime. 

Would  you  know  his  capacity  for  aesthetic 
symbolism  ?     Read  his  superb  ode  to  the  Rhine. 

Flowers  were  to  him  the  beautiful  symbols  of 
equally  beautiful  moral  truths.  What  a  world 
of  pathos  in  his  voice  where  he  says  of  Mary 
Queen  of  Scots : 

"  O  !  Roman  Rose,  cut  from  her  bleeding  stem  ! " 

And  where  he  speaks  of  the  mournful  rose- 
mary in  the  death-wreath  of  his  little  daughter 
Saartje  !  For  little  Maria,  his  darling  grand- 
child, he  wishes  "  a  winding  sheet  of  flowers — 
of  violets  white  and  red  and  purple,  blue  and 
yellow."  In  the  garlands  of  his  fancy  he  ever 
weaves  the  blooms  of  his  delight,  lilies,  violets, 
roses — white  and  red — and  his  national  flower, 
the  glorious  tulip. 

He  loved  the  open  heaven  and  the  airy  free- 
dom of  solitude.  "  The  welkin  wide  is  mine," 
he  says,  and  like  a  wild  bird  adds,  "  and  mine 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

the  open  sky."  He  loved  the  woods,  where 
his  ears  were  caressed  by  "  the  blithe  echoes  of 
the  careless  birds." 

Long  before  Shelley  he  sang  of  the  lark, 
"  wiens  keeltje  steiltjes  steigert  "  ("  whose 
throat  so  steeply  soars  ").  Long  before  Keats 
he  was  thrilled  by  the  deep-toned  nightingale. 

"The  shrill-voiced  nightingale. 
Who  at  thy  casement  bower 
Pours  out  his  breathless  tale," 

reminds  him  of  the  questioning  soul  at  the 
window  of  eternity,  "  peering  through  panes  on 
darkness  unconfined."  Then,  again,  he  likens 
himself  to  a  nightingale,  caged  for  days  in  the 
mournful  cold,  that  bursts  into  a  rapturous  mel- 
ody to  see  the  warm  sun  melt  away  the  gloom. 

His  soul  communed  with  nature  in  her  deep- 
est and  quietest  moods.  The  peaceful  meadow, 
the  calm  beauty  of  the  woods,  the  forest- 
crowned  mountains,  the  tumultuous  sea  were 
all  the  themes  of  his  song.  * 

Though  his  feeling  for  nature  was  not  so  fine  ^ 

nor  so  intense  as  that  of  some  of  the  later 
poets,  yet  it  was  deeper  and  truer.  In  the 
world  around  him  he  saw  but  a  reflection  of  the 
grander  world  beyond. 

Nor  was  the   pantheistic  conception  strange 

to  him.     See  the  first  chorus  of  the  "  Lucifer," 

136 


I 


OF  VONDEL. 

where  he  calls  God  "  the  soul  of  all  we  can  con- 
ceive ;  "  and  the  second  act,  where  he  speaks  of: 

" the  farthest  rounds 


And  endless  circles  of  eternity, 

That,  from  the  bounds  of  time  and  space  set  free, 

Revolve  unceasingly  around  one  God, 

Who  is  their  centre  and  circumference." 

How  like  the  pantheism  of  Spinoza,  first  pro- 
claimed some  years  later! 

HIS   PATRIOTISM. 

Would  you  know  him  as  a  patriot  ?  Hear 
his  splendid  tones  of  jubilation  over  the  victory 
of  his  countrymen— a  victory  where  truth  and 
freedom  triumphed.  Hear  his  fine  odes  cele- 
brating the  commerce  and  the  progress  of  the 
growing  commonwealth.  Listen  to  his  bursts 
of  patriotism  in  his  "Orange  May  Song,"  and 
where  he  calls  the  ancient  Greek  sea-galleys, 
"  child's  play  beside  ours." 

Vondel  was  a  representative  Dutchman,  and 
there  was  a  strong  national  stamp  on  all  that  he 
did.  He  was  a  grand  type  of  the  burgher  of 
the  great  Dutch  middle  class,  which  has  ever 
been  the  glory  of  the  Netherlands,  and  which 
has  given  to  the  world  such  an  illustrious  array 
of  soldiers,  painters,  scholars,  poets,  and  states- 

137 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

men.  In  reading  him  we  are  continually  re- 
minded that  we  are  in  the  land  of  dykes  and 
windmills.  Thus  all  of  his  heroes  are  invested 
with  Holland  dignities.  We  hear  of  burghers, 
burgomasters,  and  stadtholders ;  of  the  dunes, 
the  sea,  the  dams,  the  strand,  and  the  green,  fer- 
tile meadows.  Wherever  the  scene  of  the  play, 
we  always  recognize  the  streets,  the  canals, 
the  houses,  the  palaces,  and  the  environs  of 
Amsterdam.  This  was  not  due  to  a  lack  of 
historical  information,  as  was  the  case  with 
Shakespeare,  but  because  the  poet  desired  to 
bring  the  truth  closer  to  the  hearts  of  his  hear- 
ers. The  fact,  too,  that  this  made  the  scenic 
requirements  of  a  play  considerably  less,  thus 
reducing  the  expense  of  presentation,  might 
also  have  had  some  influence. 

Vondel,  furthermore,  when  representing  the 
past,  never  forgot  the  present.  It  was  ever 
before  his  eyes.  Hence  many  of  his  plays  were 
political  allegories,  and  were  significant  for  their 
bearing  upon  the  time. 

The  one  universal  characterization  of  all  of 
his  work,  one  that  glows  in  every  poem,  is  his 
love  of  freedom — the  ruling  passion  of  his 
countrymen.  Already  in  the  "  Passover  " — his 
first  tragedy,  written  at  the  age  of  twenty-six — 
we  hear  his  cry,  "  O  !  sweetest  freedom."  Soon 
afterwards,  in  his  lyrics  and  in  "  Palamedes,"  he 

138 


I 


OF  VONDEL. 

showed  his  strong  sympathy  with  Oldenbarne- 
veldt  ;  and  during  the  bitter  persecution  that 
followed,  when  he  was  forced  to  fly  like  a 
hunted  beast  from  house  to  house,  this  spirit 
grew  by  the  opposition  that  it  fed  upon  into  a 
fierce  blaze,  only  quenched  by  death. 

Like  the  Father  of  Tuscan  literature,  his 
thoughts  were  ever  attuned  to  the  spirit  of  his 
age.  Like  Dante,  too,  he  was  ever  in  the  heart 
of  the  battle.  Like  him,  also,  he  was  not 
worldly  wise,  and  was  naturally  of  a  rebellious 
temperament.  He  was  himself  in  perpetual 
revolt.  This  was  due,  however,  not  to  a  satur- 
nine disposition,  but  to  a  keen  sense  of  justice, 
and  to  the  idealism  of  a  lofty,  cultivated  mind. 
To  compel  the  age  to  conform  to  the  measure 
of  his  own  conceptions  he  often  found  procrus- 
tean  methods  necessary.  Hence  his  stern 
aggressiveness  against  wrong. 

He  fain  would  have  sat  apart  in  silent  con- 
templation, but  he  was  destined  to  know  neither 
the  Olympic  calm  of  Goethe,  nor  the  sublime 
serenity  of  Shakespeare.  "The  I'fe  of  the  day, 
like  an  octopus,  grasped  him  and  would  not  let 
him  go."  He  drank  in  the  wine  of  freedom, 
and  his  soul  was  filled  with  the  hunger  of  strife. 
His  cry  now  became  a  battle-cry.  Wherever 
he  saw  wrong  and  injustice — and  his  eyes  were 
ever   open — he    donned    his   armor    and  dealt 

139 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

crushing  blows  for  the  cause  of  the  oppressed. 
Earnest,  still,  and  passionate,  great  of  soul  and 
impressionable  of  heart,  the  poet  was  a  born 
fighter.  His  whole  life  was  a  polemic  against 
tyranny. 

His  dear  fatherland  was  the  alpha  and  omega 
of  his  inspiration,  and  he  was,  perhaps,  the  first 
Dutchman  who  deeply  felt  the  consciousness  of 
national  power.  The  next  object  of  his  soul's 
affection  was  his  city,  Amsterdam,  whose  glories 
he  never  grew  tired  of  singing.  His  character- 
ization : 

"The  town  of  commerce,  Amsterdam, 
Known  round  the  circle  of  the  globe," 

might  not  improperly  be  reflected  upon  its  new 
and  yet  more  powerful  namesake  in  the  New 
World,  of  whose  grandeur  he  might  well  be 
deemed  the  prophet,  when,  in  his  "  Gysbrecht," 
with  patriotic  eloquence  he  pictures  the  Ams- 
terdam of  the  coming  centuries.  What  though 
the  ruling  trident  has  departed  from  the  "  Ven- 
ice of  the  North,"  her  peerless  daughter,  far 
across  the  seas,  yet  holds  triumphant  sway  ! 

In  his  fiery  patriotism  Vondel  much  reminds 
us  of  Milton.  He  also  was  at  heart  a  zealous 
republican,  though  he  had  a  Christian's  un- 
shaken reverence  for  the  anointed  kings  of 
earth,  and  for  what  he  thought  a  God-consti- 

140 


OF  VONDEL. 

tuted  authority.  Hence  the  "  Lucifer,"  and  his 
relentless  opposition  to  the  regicides  of  England 
and  to  Cromwell,  "that  murderer  without  God 
and  shame,  who  dared  to  desecrate  and  to  as- 
sault the  Lord's  anointed,"  as  he  says  bitterly 
in  one  of  his  polemics. 

Like  the  great  Englishman,  the  Hollander 
was  also  a  good  hater  ;  and  he  never  spared 
what  he  hated.  Though  charitable,  he  was  un- 
compromising, and  forgave  not  easily  ;  always, 
however,  deprecating  the  excesses  of  the  "  root 
and  branch  "  zealots  of  his  own  party.  Just  as 
Milton,  after  having  joined  the  Presbyterians, 
forsook  them  when  they  in  turn  began  to  per- 
secute the  followers  of  other  creeds,  so,  too, 
Vondel  left  the  Remonstrants  when  they 
crossed  the  jealous  line  of  freedom. 

We  are  indeed  inclined  to  believe  that  his 
strongest  trait  was  his  love  of  justice,  which 
caused  him  to  oppose  tyranny  under  every 
guise,  and  to  stigmatize  the  faults  of  his  own 
church  and  party  with  expletives  as  crushing  as 
those  that  he  hurled  against  his  enemies. 

Thus  his  hatred  of  the  Catholic  Spaniards  and 
of  the  Dutch  Gomarists.  The  bloody  persecu- 
tion of  the  one  was  in  his  eyes  no  worse  than 
the  oppressive  hypocrisy  of  the  other.  Even  his 
beloved  House  of  Orange  drew  from  him  the 
bitterest  opposition  when,  in  Prince  Maurice  and 

141 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

in  William  II.,  it  threatened  the  liberty  of 
his  country  and  the  privileges  of  his  beloved 
/  Amsterdam.  Of  him  it  may  truly  be  said 
that  his  eyes  were  never  blinded  by  party 
prejudice. 

Milton,  in  an  immortal  sonnet,  blew  a  trumpet- 
blast  of  vengeance  for  the  slaughtered  Pied- 
montese.  Why  was  that  trumpet  silent  when 
his  own  party  perpetrated  a  similar  massacre 
at  Drogheda?  Vondel  was,  indeed,  far  more 
magnanimous  than  his  great  English  contem- 
porary. He  had  more  of  "the  milk  of  human 
kindness." 

How  strong  is  our  poet's  admiration  for  the 
founders  of  the  Republic,  the  fathers  of  the 
•'golden  age,"  and  for  that  grand  race  of  in- 
trepid discoverers,  pioneers,  and  explorers  that 
pierced  every  corner  of  the  globe  !  How,  too, 
flames  his  soul  with  pride,  when  he  recounts  the 
brave  deeds  of  those  old  sea-lions,  Tromp 
and  de  Ruyter,  and  their  fearless  compan- 
ions, in  the  fierce  battle  against  the  growing 
English  supremacy  !  Not  one  of  those  heroes 
whom  he  did  not  crown  with  the  wreath  of  an 
immortal  eulogy  ! 

Yet  Vondel,  even  as  Dante,  was  at  heart  a 
man  of  peace.  Like  his  countrymen,  he  never 
sought  the  fray  ;  but  when  battle  was  forced 
upon  him,  it  meant  a  fight  to  the  death.     All 

142 


OF  VONDEL. 

his  fighting  was  for  peace.  In  one  of  his  poems 
he  speaks  of  peace  as  : 

"A  treasure — Ah  !  its  worth  unknown. 
Surpassing  far  a  triumph  in  renown." 

Elsewhere  he  says,  "  The  oHve  more  than 
laurel  pleases  me."  He  never  forgot  the  high 
seriousness  of  his  mission.  He  never  lost  sight 
of  the  dignity  of  Christian  manhood. 

Vondel  was  in  a  large  sense  also  the  poet  of 
Christendom  ;  a  crusader,  with  his  face  ever 
towards  the  New  Jerusalem,  throned  in  ethereal 
splendors.  He  felt  himself  a  member  of  that 
large  Christian  alliance  that  Henry  IV.  wished 
to  found  as  a  barrier  against  the  encroachments 
of  the  Turk,  the  arch-foe  of  Christendom. 

"He  comes — the  Turk  !     We  stand  with  winged  arms," 

he  shouts  in  one  of  his  poems.  Yet  he  never 
forgot  to  pray,  also,  that  the  erring  ones,  both 
Jew  and  Gentile,  might  be  brought  into  the 
fold  of  the  "  true  Church." 


HIS    VIEWS   ON   LIFE. 

Of  particular  interest  are  the  views  of  so  old 
and  so  profound  a  seer  on  life ;  for  every  poet 
has  his  scheme  of  life.  What  men  call  genius 
is,  indeed,  only  the  faculty  of  seeing  life  through 

143 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

the  prism  of  a  temperament,  and  the  poets  are 
preeminently  the  men  of  temperament.  Von- 
del,  with  his  earnest,  sincere  nature,  out  of  the 
bewildering  chaos  of  his  environment  soon 
evolved  his  own  philosophy  of  existence.  "  Life, 
that  sad  tragedy,"  the  youthful  poet  calls  it  in 
his  "  Passover."  To  him  already  life  was  a 
passing  pageant,  and  man,  an  exile.  His  epit- 
ome of  the  world's  history,  moreover,  is  not 
unlike  the  celebrated  epigram  of  Rhynvis 
Feith,  another  Dutch  poet  : 

"  Man,  like  a  withered  leaf,  falls  in  oblivion's  wave. 
We  are,  and  fade  away — the  cradle  and  the  grave ; 
Between  thetn  flits  a  dreanri,  a  drama  of  the  heart ; 
Smart  yields  his  place  to  Joy,  and  Joy  again  to  Smart  ; 
The  monarch  mounts  his  throne  ;  the  slave  bows  to  the 

floor  ; 
Death  breathes  upon   the   scene — the  players  are   no 

more." 

His  gaze,  like  Milton's,  was  ever  upward, 
through  the  prison-bars  of  time,  into  the  uncon- 
fined  vast  of  eternity.  His  tone,  too,  was  most 
glorious  when  singing  "celestial  things." 

How  like  the  voice  of  a  Hebrew  prophet  his 
note  of  warning,  where  he  cries : 

"  Batavians,  repent ; 
Think  of  Tyre  and  Sidon. 
Repent  as  the  Ninevites  ! 
O  !  mourn  your  sins  !  " 
144 


OF  VONDEL. 

And  after  all  this  painful  revelry  of  life,  this 
lust  of  action,  and  the  battle's  roar,  it  is  a 
"haven  sweet  and  still"  that  his  earth-tor- 
mented soul  longs  for.  How  softly  he  whis- 
pers after  his  fiery  trumpet  tones  are  done : 

"  O  !  help  me,  O  my  God,  to  give  my  life  to  thee, 
My  fragile  self,  my  will,  my  little  all.     Let  me, 
O  thou  beyond  compare  !  O  source  of  everything  ! 
In  praises  rich  and  deep  thy  matchless  glory  sing  ! " 

In  the  pensive  twilight  of  old  age,  he  grew 
more  and  more  conscious  of  the  true  everlast- 
ing, and  his  patriotism  became  the  all-embrac- 
ing one  of  the  '*  fatherland  above."  He  now 
began  to  look  forward  with  child-like  faith  to 
the  revelations  of  the  resurrection,  though  not 
forgetting  that : 

"The  infant  of  eternity 
Must  first  be  cradled  in  the  tomb  ;  " 

but  believing  that  from  the  cerements  of  mys- 
tery shall  break  a  light  to  lead  the  soul  to 
heaven. 

HIS   PLACE  AND   ART. 

Vondel,  to  an  extraordinary  degree,  possessed 
that  keen  insight  into  human  nature  which  is 
the  first  requisite  of  the  great  satirist.  He  was 
the  Juvenal  of  his  time.     Though  his   wit    is 

»45 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

never  delicate  nor  keen,  it  is,  however,  sweeping 
and  irresistible.  His  was  no  gentle  zephyr  of 
irony  to  tickle  the  tender  cuticle  of  a  supersen- 
sitive age,  but  a  very  cyclone  of  mockery  to 
laugh  a  thick-skinned  generation  out  of  folly. 

His  poetry  is  ever  the  instrument  of  exalta- 
tion ;  and  though  in  its  condemnation  of  evil 
it  often  by  its  directness  and  frankness  gives 
some  offense  to  the  delicate  edge  of  our  modern 
refinement,  it  is  never  indecently  coarse ;  it  is 
never  a  pander  to  vice. 

Indignation  more  intense,  scorn  more  con- 
temptuous, satire  more  powerful,  invective  more 
tremendous  than  that  glowing  in  the  polemics 
of  this  great  satirist  have  never  struck  fear 
into  the  hardened  hearts  of  the  wicked.  Few 
men  have  been  so  hated ;  few  have  been  so 
loved. 

Yet  the  sublime  is  the  true  field  of  this  poet, 
and  sublimer  thoughts  than  his  were  surely 
never  spoken.  The  grandeur  of  Job,  the  glory 
of  the  Psalms,  and  the  splendor  of  the  Apoca- 
lypse are  all  to  be  found  in  his  magnificent  Bib- 
lical tragedies,  that  noble  series  commencing 
with  the  "Jerusalem  Desolate"  of  his  untried 
youth,  and  ending  with  the  "Noah"  of  his 
octogenarian  ripeness. 

The  influence  of  the  Bible  on  his  art  was 
prodigious.     The  Holy  Writ  was  the  inexhaust- 

1^6 


OF  VONDEL. 

ible  quarry  from  which  he  hewed  his  master, 
pieces ;  throughout  whose  development  may- 
be traced  the  growth  of  a  human  soul.  See 
his  paraphrase  of  the  Psalms,  if  you  would 
know  his  enjoyment  of  the  serene  beauty  of 
holiness. 

The  artistic  truth  of  all  his  creations  is  seen 
in  their  elemental  objectivity — the  portrayal 
by  vivid  flashes  of  feeling  and  by  artful  repre- 
sentation of  the  ever-during  and  imperishable. 
In  most  of  his  dramas  is  the  sublimity  of 
^schylus  with  the  fine  proportion  and  the 
directness  of  Sophocles.  In  others,  as  in  the 
"  Leeuwendalers,"  where  he  sings  the  triumph 
of  peace,  is  the  sweetness  and  the  feminine 
strength  of  Euripides. 

Of  Vondel  it  has  truly  been  said  :  "  Nihil 
tetigit  quod  non  ornavit ;  "  for  to  beauty — 

"  God's  handmaid,  Beauty, 
Whose  touch  rounds 
A  dew-drop  or  a  world  " — 

he  ever  paid  the  incense  of  a  passionate  devo- 
tion. 

"  vEschylus  does  right  without  knowing  it," 
said  Sophocles ;  even  so  Vondel  possessed  an 
unerring  instinct  for  the  true  ;  ever  stringing  the 
jewelled  beads  of  fancy  on  the  golden  thread  of 
truth. 

147 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

Like  vEschylus,  too,  he  was  at  heart  a  lyric 
poet  ;  yet  who  shall  say  that  in  his  character 
delineation,  in  the  sweeping  energy  of  his  ac- 
tion, and  in  the  management  of  his  plot,  he  was 
not  almost  equally  as  admirable  ? 

Like  Dryden,  Vondel  rose  very  slowly  to  the 
stature  of  his  full  power.  All  of  his  dramas 
preceding  the  "  Lucifer "  show  this  gradual 
development ;  all  of  those  that  come  later  main- 
tain the  same  standard  of  excellence. 

Like  Goethe,  the  Dutch  poet  exerted  an 
ennobling  influence  on  the  theatre  of  his  coun- 
try. Like  Dante,  he  was  fond  of  a  strong,  bold 
outline,  and  always  chose  a  direct  rather  than 
a  circuitous  route.  Like  Shakespeare,  he  was  a 
keen  observer  of  affairs,  a  student  of  life.  His 
works  are  the  rimed  chronicles  of  his  age. 
His  was  a  transcendent  genius,  not  oppressed  by 
excessive  culture,  and  with  the  creative  ever  the 
ruling  instinct.  To  him  poetry  was  the  divinest 
of  the  arts.  It  became  the  ritual  of  his  soul's 
worship  ;  duty,  beauty,  and  religion  were  the 
three  strings  on  his  melodious  lyre. 

His  works  abound  in  little  scholasticism. 
Pedantry  and  affectation  were  his  abomination ; 
pith  and  vigor,  directness  and  comprehensive- 
ness, the  radical  elements  of  his  strength.  In 
his  works  we  find  a  harvest  of  such  glorious 
themes  as  store  the  granary  of  poet  minds  ;  we 

148 


i 


OF  VONDEL. 

see  everywhere  evidences  of  power.     We  are 
ever  startled  by  : 

"  The  lightning  flash  of  an  immortal  thought, 
The  rolling  thunder  of  a  mighty  line." 

Vondel's  similes  are  more  striking  than  his 
metaphors ;  there  is  a  sustained  glow  in  his 
imagery.  In  this  respect,  also,  he  shows  the 
Oriental  bent  of  his  genius.  This  is  further- 
more seen  in  his  personification  of  the  elements 
of  nature  and  of  the  stars  and  constellations,  as 
in  the  "  Lucifer,"  which  gives  a  barbaric  splendor 
to  the  play.  Few  poets,  indeed,  in  any  litera- 
ture, contain  such  splendid  and  elevated  images. 

He,  too,  could  woo  discordant  sounds  to 
harmony,  and  wove  the  consonantal  Dutch 
into  mellow  meshes  of  ensnaring  sound.  A 
nobleness  not  devoid  of  grace,  a  sublimity  not 
austere,  but  warm  with  human  sympathy;  a 
manner  more  remarkable  for  chaste  strength 
and  a  rugged  symmetry  of  form  than  for  deli- 
cacy or  elegance — these  are  some  of  the  charac- 
teristics of  his  style. 

Not  for  him  the  sweet  felicities  of  the  mincing 
phraser  or  the  dreamy  languors  of  the  riming 
troubadour.  Not  for  him  the  gaysome  zephyr 
or  the  dim,  romantic  moon.  He  is  ever  on 
the  serene  altitude  of  lofty  contemplation,  or 
in    the    valley,    battling    like    a   god.       He    is 

149 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

always  deeply  serious.  He  is  everywhere 
sincere.  His  is  the  whirlwind  and  the  storm  ; 
the  noonday  glare  and  the  midnight  gloom. 
His  is  the  eagle's  bold,  epic  flight  and  the 
lark's  wild,  lyric  soar.  No  nightingale  of  senti- 
ment trills  her  dulcet  serenade  amid  the  forest 
of  his  song.  And  yet  who  can  be  more  ten- 
der and  affecting,  who  more  truly,  softly  sweet? 
All  is  virile ;  nothing  is  effeminate.  All  is 
manly,  healthful,  pure.  There  is  no  morbid 
fever  of  a  brain  diseased  and  foul.  There  is  no 
pale,  misleading  will-o'-the-wisp  of  a  heart  de- 
cayed and  bad.  There  is  freshness,  there  is 
beauty,  there  is  truth.  "  Magnificent "  is  the  one 
word  for  his  manner,  "  the  grand  style  "  of  the 
Netherlands. 

His  was  the  sombre  Occidental  imagination 
fired  with  the  splendor  of  the  Orient.  His 
poetry  is  a  Gothic  cathedral,  grand,  towering, 
and  impressive,  typical  at  once  of  the  massive 
ruggedness  of  the  oak  and  the  severe  sublimity  of 
the  Alp  ;  a  Teutonic  temple,  in  whose  cloistered 
corridors  we  hear  the  majestic  sweep  of  unseen 
angels'  wings,  while  the  glorious  symphony  of 
harps  and  psalteries,  played  by  countless  cheru- 
bim, mingling  with  the  rich  bass  of  the  organ 
and  the  ethereal  tenor  of  invisible  choristers, 
rolls  like  a  flood  of  celestral  harmony  through 
all  the  deep  diapason  from  heaven  to  hell. 

150 


OF  VONDEL. 

The  word  "  vondel  "  in  the  Brabantian  dialect 
means  a  "  little  bridge,"  which  suggests  a  not 
inapt  analogy ;  for  it  was  Vondel  who  bridged 
the  chasm  between  the  crude  Mystery  and- 
Miracle  Plays  of  the  Chambers  of  Rhetoric,  and 
the  "  Lucifer,"  a  drama  unequalled  in  the 
history  of  Dutch  literature.  Between  the  dead 
abstractions  of  the  Chambers  and  the  warm, 
concrete  life  of  the  sublime  Vondelian  drama, 
even  as  between  "  Gorboduc  "  and  "  Hamlet,"  lay 
the  experience  of  one  soul. 

Hooft,  like  Heiberg  in  Denmark  and  Lessing 
in  Germany,  instituted  a  revolution  in  the 
world  of  taste.  But  Vondel,  even  more  than 
Hooft,  developed  the  latent  powers  of  the 
tongue,  enlarged  its  resources,  and  fixed  its 
form.  His  is  still  the  noblest  of  Dutch  diction, 
possessing  that  strange  virility  that  defies  time. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  century  the  language 
was  hardly  fit  for  literary  use.  The  school  of 
Vondel  in  one  generation — the  first  half  of  the 
seventeenth  century — did  for  Holland  what  the 
thirteenth  century  had  done  for  Italy  and  the 
sixteenth  for  England.  Vondel,  no  less  than 
Shakespeare,  was  the  creator  of  an  epoch.  His 
influence  on  his  own  language  was  equally  as 
wonderful,  his  impress  on  his  country's  litera- 
ture almost  as  great. 

To   him  the  poets   of  the  following  genera- 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 

tions,  even  the  great  Bilderdyk,  looked  for  in- 
spiration. To  him  also  they  have  ever  paid 
homage. 

Like  Homer,  he  also  found  his  Zoilus,  but  the 
greatest  intellects  of  his  country  and  his  age — 
and  surely  few  epochs  have  seen  greater — Gro- 
tius,  Hooft,  Vossius,  Huyghens,  and  scores  of 
others  of  almost  equal  fame  thought  him  not 
inferior  to  the  noblest  poets  of  antiquity, 

Vondel  lived  in  a  memorable  epoch  and  was 
its  personification.  It  was  the  Augustan  Era  of 
Holland,  the  Dutch  Age  of  Pericles.  Amster- 
dam, like  another  Athens,  had  become  the 
centre  of  the  world's  civilization.  Nowhere  in 
that  age  were  the  arts  so  sedulously  cultivated  ; 
nowhere  had  their  cultivation  been  rewarded  by 
such  high  attainment. 

Science,  the  world  puzzler,  opened  his  toy- 
box,  the  universe,  and  showed  its  countless  won- 
ders. Philosophy,  with  guessive  hand,  played 
at  the  riddle  Destiny,  and  mild  Religion,  at 
the  game  of  War.  Literature,  the  sum  of  all  the 
arts  and  all  the  sciences,  shone  like  the  dazzling 
Arctic  sun  in  its  brief  midnight  noon — one  hour 
of  glory  in  a  day  of  gloom.  When  the  poet 
died,  the  epoch  died  with  him.  A  night  of 
mediocrity  now  brooded  over  the  marshy  fens 
of  Holland.  A  swarm  of  poetasters  succeeded 
the  race  of  poets.     Originality   was  banished. 

«S2 


OF  VONDEL. 

Affectation,  with  his  sycophantic  wiles,  had  won 
the  heart  of  a  degenerate  generation.  Art,  like 
a  flower  suddenly  deprived  of  the  warm  kisses 
of  day,  pined  away  in  the  sterile  cold.  Genius 
was  dead. 

Vondel  is  preeminently  the  poet  of  freedom. 
The  principles  sanctified  by  the  blood  of  his 
countrymen,  and  won  by  nearly  a  century  of 
the  most  noble  daring  and  heroic  endurance, 
he,  as  the  voice  of  his  nation,  glorified  in 
his  beautiful  pastoral,  the  "  Leeuwendalers." 
These  same  principles  also  became  the  rallying 
shout  of  the  English  Revolution  of  1688.  That 
same  war-cry,  reechoing  at  Lexington  and  Ala- 
mance, swept  the  American  Colonies  from 
Bunker  Hill  to  Guilford  Court  House  like  a 
whirlwind  of  flame ;  and  tyrann)',  with  shudder- 
ing dread,  fled  to  its  native  lair. 

The  shibboleth  of  liberty,  first  blown  with 
stirring  trumpet  tones  across  the  watery  moors 
of  Holland  by  the  patriot-poet  Vondel,  was 
now  repeated  in  deathless  prose  at  Mecklenburg 
and  Philadelphia.  A  new  United  States  arose 
like  a  glorious  phoenix  from  the  ashes  of  the 
old. 

For  the  American  Constitution  was  but  the 
grand  conclusion  of  that  lingering  bloody  syl- 
logism of  freedom,  of  which  the  Treaty  of 
Munster  was  the  major  premise.     And  Vondel, 

153 


LIFE  AND  TIMES  OF  VONDEL. 

inspired  logician  of  the  true,  unravelling  the 
tangled  skein  of  his  country's  destiny,  also 
uncoiled  the  golden  thread  of  our  great  fate. 

Of  his  magnificent  works,  the  natural  heritage 
of  the  American  people,  we  here  present  this 
choice  fragment,  the  "  Lucifer,"  aglow  with 
the  eternal  spirit  of  revolt. 

And  now  we  leave  our  poet.  A  spotless 
name,  the  record  of  a  noble,  sacrificing  life,  a 
message  of  beauty,  and  a  treasury  of  immortal 
truths — this  was  Vondel's  legacy  to  his  country- 
men. 

L.  C.  V.  N. 


154 


Cbe  "Cucifer. 


ft 


"  Away,  away,  into  the  shadow-land. 

Where  Myth  and  Mystery  walk  hand  in  hand  ; 
Where  Legend  cons  her  half-forgotten  lore. 
And  Sphinx  and  Gorgon  throng  the  silent  shore." 

THE    PARADISE    HISTORY. 

jHE  Paradise  history,  as  solving  the 
problem  of  the  origin  of  man  and 
the  origin  of  evil,  and  as  foreshad- 
owing the  goal  of  human  destiny, 
has  always  been  a  subject  of  univer- 
sal concern;  one  full  of  fascination  for  the  imag- 
ination of  the  poet.  Few  subjects,  indeed,  have 
aroused  such  widely  diffused  and  long  sustained 
interest. 

Beginning  with  the  "  Creation  "  of  the  Spanish 

157 


THE  "LUCIFER:" 

monk  Dracontius,  the  Biblical  paraphrases  of 
the  old  English  poet  Caedmon,  and  the  Latin 
poem  of  Avitus,  Bishop  of  Vienna,  we  see,  at 
different  periods,  various  studies  of  this  absorb- 
ing theme,  especially  in  Italy,  where  a  score  or 
more  poets  and  essayists  made  it  the  source  of 
their  inspiration. 

Perhaps  the  most  noted  of  these  was  Andrieni 
(i  578-1652),  who  wrote  the  "  Adamo,"  a  tragedy 
in  five  acts,  whose  subject  is  the  fall  of  man. 
This  drama,  however,  is  a  rather  crude  affair, 
such  allegorical  abstractions  as  Death,  Sin,  and 
Despair  being  the  chief  characters. 

About  the  same  period,  strange  to  say,  the 
Netherland  imagination,  not  long  awakened 
from  its  medieval  torpor,  also  became  fired 
with  this  theme.  The  youthful  Grotius  was  the 
first  to  attempt  it  in  his  "Adamus  Exul,"  a 
Latin  drama  of  considerable  merit.  This  was 
in  1601,  several  years  before  the  ''Adamo"  of 
Andrieni.  Two  other  Dutchmen  of  the  same 
generation,  both  far  greater  poets  than  Gro- 
tius, were  also  attracted  by  this  subject.  One 
was  the  distinguished  Father  Cats  in  his  idyll, 
"The  First  Marriage;"  the  other  was  Justus 
van  den  Vondel  in  his  "  Lucifer." 

We  would,  in  passing,  call  attention  to  the 
curious  coincidence  that  so  many  poets  of  so 
many  different  nations,  most  of  them  doubtless 

158 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

without  knowledge  of  the  others,  should  about 
the  same  time  have  chosen  this  subject  of  such 
historical  and  symbolical  importance.  For  be- 
sides the  poets  mentioned  were  many  others: 
the  Scotchman  Ramsay,  the  Spaniard  de 
Azevedo,  the  Portuguese  Camoens,  the  French- 
man Du  Bartas,  and  two  Englishmen,  Phineas 
Fletcher  and  John  Milton.  A  more  remarkable 
instance  of  telepathy  is  not,  we  believe,  on 
record. 

Of  all  of  the  works  of  the  many  authors  who 
have  treated  this  theme,  only  two,  however, 
have  withstood  the  critical  test  of  time  ;  only 
two  have  been  awarded  the  palm  of  immortality. 
These  two  are  Milton's  "  Paradise  Lost  "  and 
Vondel's  "  Lucifer  "  :  the  former,  the  grandest  of 
English  epics ;  the  latter,  the  noblest  of  Dutch 
dramas.  It  is  the  "  Lucifer  "  that  we  have  been 
asked  to  discuss. 

DID    MILTON    BORROW   FROM   VONDEL  ? 

The  "  Lucifer  "  was  published  thirteen  years 
before  "  Paradise  Lost."  The  scheme  of  the 
English  poem  had,  however,  already  been  crys- 
tallized in  the  mind  of  its  author  for  fifteen 
years.  This  scheme  originally  contemplated  a 
drama,  which  the  poet's  powerful  imagination 
gradually  developed  into  an  epic. 

To  whom  Vondel  was  indebted  for  the  founda- 

ij9 


THE  "LUCIFER:" 

tion  of  his  tremendous  drama  is  easily  ascer- 
tained. He  himself  mentions  his  authorities  in 
his  admirable  and  learned  preface.  Among 
these  were,  besides  the  Holy  Writ,  the  various 
Church  Fathers,  the  "Adamus  Exul "  of  Gro- 
tius,  the  work  of  Du  Bartas,  and  a  treatise  on  the 
fallen  angels,  by  the  English  Protestant,  Richard 
Baker.  His  own  imagination,  however,  soared 
far  above  the  fundamental  hints  that  he  received 
from  any  of  these  works  on  the  subject,  so  that 
the  "  Lucifer  "  is  rightly  considered  one  of  the 
most  original  and  comprehensive  poems  in  liter- 
ature. 

To  whom  Milton  was  indebted  for  the  idea  of 
his  great  epic  is,  on  the  other  hand,  not  so  easy 
to  discover,  although  generation  after  genera- 
tion of  critics  have  thrown  upon  this  problem 
the  searchlight  of  innumerable  essays. 

That  the  "  Paradise  Lost  "  is  scintillant  with 
many  of  the  brightest  gems  in  the  crown  of  the 
Greek  and  Latin  classics  is  apparent  even  at  a 
cursory  reading.  That  it  is  also  studded  with 
poetic  paraphrases  of  many  modern  authors 
has  often  been  asserted. 

However,  the  opportunity  for  originality  was 
colossal,  and  Milton's  imagination  proved  equal 
to  the  task.  The  conception  of  "  Paradise 
Lost  "  alone  makes  it  the  grandest  work  of  the 
imagination  of  modern  times. 

i6o 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

That  the  English  poet  occasionally  borrowed 
a  thought  or  a  sentence  can  not  be  doubted. 
Besides,  he  had  a  wonderful  memory,  long  and 
tenacious,  which  involuntarily  emptied  its 
gatherings  into  the  flow  of  his  thought  and  into 
the  stream  of  his  discourse.  That  this  was  not 
always  done  unconsciously  is  known  from 
Milton's  own  confession,  where  he  says:  "To 
borrow  and  to  better  in  the  borrowing  is  no 
plagiarie."  And  that  he  bettered  in  the  bor- 
rowing who  can  doubt?  All  that  he  touched 
turned  to  gold  ;  all  that  he  thought  came  out 
transfigured.  In  the  alembic  of  his  genius 
truth  became  beauty  ;  the  mortal,  the  immortal. 
I  As  the  "  Lucifer  "  and  the  "  Paradise  Lost  " 
are  both  concerning  the  same  subject,  and  as 
they  are  both  founded  upon  the  Biblical  account 
of  the  creation,  it  is  but  natural  that  they 
should  have  much  in  common.  A  comparison 
of  the  two  poems,  therefore,  we  feel  sure  would 
bring  to  light  some  striking  and  curious  resem- 
blances and  many  equally  strong  and  remark- 
able contrasts. 

As  such  comparison  would  expand  this  article 
beyond  the  prescribed  limits,  we  must  leave  it 
to  the  reader  himself.  Nor  should  he,  for  one 
instant,  forget  the  fundamental  difference  be- 
tween the  drama  and  the  epic. 

The  epic  may  wander  through  the  dales  of 

i6i 


THE  "LUaFER:*' 

Arcady,  along  description's  slow,  meandering 
way,  to  pluck  the  roses  of  beauty  and  the  lilies 
of  sentiment  there  growing  in  so  sweet  abund- 
ance. The  drama,  with  vigorous  step  and  bold, 
unerring  eye,  pursues  a  straight  path  to  the 
mountain-top  of  its  climax,  whence,  with  in- 
creasing momentum,  it  plunges  down  to  its  aw- 
ful catastrophe.  It  is  the  difference  between 
narration  and  action. 

We  shall  have  to  content  ourselves,  there- 
fore, by  a  brief  reference  to  those  who  have 
already  given  this  matter  their  attention. 

That  Milton  was  under  great  obligations  to 
Vondel's  drama  has  been  maintained  by  Dutch 
men  of  letters  for  generations.  It  has  also 
become  the  contention  of  several  distinguished 
English  critics.  Even  as  far  back  as  1825  the 
poet  Beddoes,  in  a  review  of  "  Hayley's  Life  and 
'Ltiters''  {Quarterly  Reinew,  vol.  xxxi.),  says: 
"  An  effect  which  has  hitherto  not  been  noticed 
was  then  produced  by  the  Dutch  poets.  In 
their  school  Joshua  Sylvester  (who  lived 
amongst  them)  learnt  some  of  the  peculiarities 
of  his  versification  ;  and  if  Milton  was  incited 
by  the  perusal  of  any  poem  upon  the  same 
subject  to  compose  his  '  Paradise  Lost,'  it  was 
by  studying  the  '  Lucifer  '  and  'Adam  in  Bal- 
lingschap '  of  Vondel,  for  he  tried  his  strength 
with    the    same   great    poet     in    the    '  Samson 

162 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

Agonistes ; '  Vondel  being,  indeed,  the  only 
contemporary  with  whom  he  would  not  have 
felt  it  a  degradation  to  vie." 

Mr.  Edmund  W.  Gosse,  in   a   brilliant    essay  ) 
entitled  "  Milton  and  Vondel,"  was,  we  believe,  j 
the  first  Englishman  who  gave  the  subject  con- 
scientious study. 

'  For  this,  on  account  of  his  knowledge  of  the 
difficult  Dutch  language,  he  was  peculiarly 
fitted.  Mr.  Gosse,  in  his  own  interesting  man- 
ner, tells  how,  during  the  seventeenth  century, 
the  Dutch,  then  one  of  the  most  vigorous  lan- 
guages of  Europe,  was  much  more  studied  than 
it  is  to-day  ;  how  the  patriot  Puritan,  Roger 
Williams,  having  learned  the  language  in  Hol- 
land during  his  exile  there,  taught  it  to  John 
Milton,  then  Cromwell's  Latin  secretary  ;  how 
Milton  also  must  have  heard  of  the  great  fame 
of  the  "  Lucifer,"  and  of  the  storm  of  fanatical 
opposition  that  greeted  its  publication,  from 
some  of  the  Dutch  diplomats  whom  it  was  his 
place  to  entertain  ;  how,  too,  he  could  hardly 
have  been  ignorant  of  the  name  of  the  distin- 
guished author  of  the  drama,  since  it  is  known 
that  he  was  well  acquainted  with  Hugo  Grotius, 
who  was  a  warm  admirer  and  the  bosom  friend 
of  Vondel. 

In  addition  to  these  and  other  reasons,  Mr. 
Gosse  then  brings  forward  a  plausible  array  of 

163 


THE  "LUCIFER:" 

internal  evidence,  showing  many  points  of  simi- 
larity in  the  construction  and  in  the  treatment 
of  the  two  poems,  summing  up  with  the  con- 
clusion that  Milton  was  undoubtedly  under 
considerable  obligation  to  his  great  Dutch  con- 
temporary. 

Rev.  George  Edmundson,  M.A.,  of  Middlesex, 
England,  a  graduate  of  Oxford,  in  a  scholarly 
and  painstaking  work  of  two  hundred  pages, 
entitled  "  Milton  and  Vondel — a  Literary  Cu- 
riosity," next  took  up  the  subject,  carrying  the 
comparison  not  only  into  these  two  poems,  but 
into  all  the  works  of  Milton  and  into  several 
others  of  Vondel. 

Mr.  Edmundson  also  discovered  many  won- 
derful coincidences  and  innumerable  parallel- 
isms in  phrase  and  in  imagery.  Inspired  with 
the  motto,  S^iiiui  cuique  honorem,  he  has  woven 
a  tissue  of  most  ingenious  arguments  to  prove 
that  Milton  borrowed  assiduously  from  the 
"Lucifer,"  the  ''Adam,"  the  "Samson,"  and 
other  works  of  Vondel. 

Mr.  Vance  Thompson,  in  the  New  York 
Musical  Courier  of  December  15,  1897,  has  also 
added  some  interesting  data  to  the  subject. 

With  all  the  conclusions  of  these  gentlemen 
we  are  not  yet,  however,  prepared  to  agree. 
It  is  true  we  have  not  given  the  matter  the 
comparative    study    that    they    have    given    it. 

164 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

We  would  wait,  therefore,  until  we  had  thought 
more  deeply  about  it  before  expressing  our 
final  opinion.  However,  we  believe  that  a 
critical  and  impartial  comparison  of  the  two 
masterpieces  will  neither  detract  from  the  glory 
of  Milton  nor  dim  the  grandeur  of  Vondel. 

THE   SCENE   OF   THE   PLAY. 

"  Lucifer  "  is  not  the  story  "  of  man's  first  dis- 
obedience," though  this  is  the  outcome  of  the 
catastrophe.  It  is  the  drama  of  the  fall  of  the 
angels.  Yet  man  is  the  one  subject  of  conten- 
tion. Our  first  parents  are,  therefore,  kept  in 
the  logical  background  of  cause  and  effect. 
The  creation  of  Adam,  his  bliss  and  his  growing 
eminence,  were  the  prime  cause  of  the  angelic 
conspiracy.  The  two-fold  effect  of  the  revolt 
was  to  the  rebellious  angels  loss  of  Heaven,  and 
to  Adam  loss  of  Eden. 

Vondel,  moreover,  follows  the  doctrines  of  i 
certain  theologians  that  Christ  would  have 
become  man  even  had  Adam  not  sinned.  Like 
Milton,  he  measures  the  scene  of  his  heroic 
action  with  "  the  endless  radius  of  infinitude," 
and  by  the  artful  use  of  terrestrial  analogies 
conveys  to  the  reader  that  idea  of  incompre- 
hensible vastness  that  the  transcendent  nature 
of  the    subject   demands.      Vondel    is,  indeed, 

165 


THE  "LUaFER:" 

even  more  vague  ;  the  drama  not  giving  oppor- 
tunity for  detailed  description.  Both  are  a  won- 
derful contrast  to  the  minute  visual  exactness 
of  Dante. 

The  attempt  to  reconcile  the  spiritual  qualities 
of  the  divine  world  with  the  physical  proper- 
ties of  this,  necessarily  introduces  some  una- 
voidable incongruities.  How  can  a  material  con- 
ception of  the  immaterial  be  given  save  through 
the  symbols  of  the  real  !  How  else  can  the 
unknown  be  ascertained  save  through  the  equa- 
tion of  the  known!  How  else,  save  by  visual 
and  sensuous  images,  express  such  impalpable 
thought  ! 

"Thus  measuring-  things  in  Heaven  by  things  on  earth," 

the  poet  gives  us  a  finite  picture  of  the 
infinite;  a  picture  which  yet,  by  means  of 
shadowy  outlines  and  an  artistic  vagueness, 
impresses  us  with  the  awful  sublimity  of  the 
illimitable  and  eternal.  The  physical  immen- 
sity of  the  poem  is  unsurpassed. 

Humanized  gods  and  Titanic  passions  shad- 
owed by  fate  upon  the  immaculate  canvas  of 
sacred  legend — this  is  the  play.  The  personality 
of  the  author  is  never  seen  ;  yet  when  we  know 
the  man  and  his  life,  we  cannot  but  see  therein 
the  reflex  of  his  own  experience.     The  scene  is 

1 66 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

in  Heaven  and  never  leaves  it.      When  actions 
occur  elsewhere,  they  are  described. 

Infinities  above  the  scene  of  contention,  far 
beyond  "  Heaven's  blazing  archipelagoes,"  where 
no  imagination  dares  to  soar,  reigns  He 

"  Before  whose  face 
The  universe  with  its  eternity 
Is  but  a  mote,  a  moment  poised  in  space." 

There 

"Stand  the  hidden  springs  of  life  revealed, 
The  wondrous  mechanism  from  earth  concealed. 
There  Nature's  primal  premises  appear 
In  simple  grandeur,  deep  and  crystal  clear. 
Flowing  from  out  the  heart  of  boundless  ocean 
Of  the  eternal  Now.     With  rapt  devotion 
A  myriad  ministering  forces  there  await 
The  summons  of  His  awful  eyes  of  fate. 
The  mandates  of  His  all-compelling  voice." 

Far,  far  below  those  empyrean  vaults  is  Earth, 
with  its  pristine  inhabitants.  God  and  man — 
the  Creator  and  the  thing  created,  the  First 
Cause  and  the  last  effect — are  both  judiciously 
only  introduced  into  the  drama  by  hearsay. 

Deep  in  the  vague  immensity  lies  Chaos,  the 
uninhabited,  through  which  the  vanquished 
rebels  are  to  be  hurled  to  their  endless  doom. 

But  the  poet  also  takes  us 

"  Where  meteors  glare  and  stormy  glooms  invest ;  " 

as,  leaving  Elysium's  fields  of  light,  he  views 

167 


THE  *' LUCIFER:" 

"  Hell's  punishments  and  horrors  dire, 
Its  gulfs  of  woe  and  lakes  of  rayless  fire, 
Where  demons  laugh  and  fiends  and  furies  rage 
Round  writhing  victims  whose  parched  tongues  assuage 
No  cooling  drops  of  hope." 

Such  is  the  grand  perspective  from  the  scene 
of  this  stupendous  drama. 

THE    PEACEFUL    JOYS    OF   PARADISE. 

The  play  opens  as  softly  as  the  opening  strains 
of  some  grand  oratorio.  The  first  act  is  largely 
descriptive,  a  picture  of  the  beautiful  serenity 
of  Heaven  and  of  the  joys  of  Paradise. 

Belzebub,  the  second  devil,  first  comes  on  the 
scene,  and,  as  he  stands  upon  those  "  heights 
flushed  in  creation's  morn,"  by  means  of  a 
few  words,  vibrant  with  suggestion  and  of  far- 
reaching  import,  he  at  once  gives  us  the  key 
to  the  opening  situation,  indicating  the  relative 
positions  of  the  two  chief  personages  of  the 
drama — the  antithesis  of  Lucifer  and  Adam. 

Apollion  has  been  sent  below  to  gain  some 
tidings  of  the  new  race  of  earth.  With  speedy 
wings  he  soars  back  through  the  blue  crystalline 
and  past  the  wondering  spheres,  bearing  a 
golden  bough  laden  with  choice  fruit,  that  apple 
sweet  whose  juice  is  wine  of  destiny.  He  is 
brimming  with  enthusiasm  over  the  wonders 
that  he  has  just  witnessed. 

i68 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

Belzebub,  who  has  been  anxiously  awaiting 
his  return,  listens  intently  to  his  glowing  de- 
scription of  the  beauty  of  Eden  and  its  primal 
innocence,  occasionally  interrupting  with  excla- 
mations of  wonder.  Question  after  question 
suggests  itself  to  his  excited  imagination.  At 
first  he  is  aflame  with  curiosity,  then  jealousy 
begins  to  tincture  his  ardor,  and  his  admiration 
soon  changes  into  mockery. 

Apollion  then  describes  the  primeval  pair  and 
their  unalloyed  bliss,  and  confesses  that  in  the 
delightful  blaze  of  Eve's  charms  his  snowy  wings 
were  singed.  Indeed,  to  curb  his  increasing 
desire,  he  covered  his  eyes  with  both  hands  and 
wings.  Even  when  godlike  resolution  had  im- 
pelled him  to  return  on  high,  he  thrice  turned 
back  a  lingering  gaze  towards  the  more  than 
seraphic  beauty  of  the  first  woman.  Far 
sweeter  than  even  the  music  of  the  spheres, 
those  nightingales  of  space,  is  this  most  beauti- 
ful note  in  the  song  of  creation  ! 

Indescribably  delicate  is  his  account  of  the 
joys  of  that  first  marriage : 

"  And  then  he  kissed 
His  bride  and  she  her  bridegroom — thus  on  joy 
Their  nuptials  fed,  on  feasts  of  fiery  love, 
Better  imagined  far  than  told — a  bliss 
Divine  beyond  all  angel  ken  ;  " 

adding,  with  exquisite  pathos, 

169 


THE  "LUaFER:" 

"  How  poor 
Our  loneliness  ;  for  us  no  union  sweet 
Of  two-fold  sex — of  maiden  and  of  man — 
Alas  !  how  much  of  good  we  miss  ;  we  know 
No  mate  or  happy  marriage  in  a  Heaven 
Devoid  of  woman." 

With  Belzebub,  that  mighty  spirit  severely 
masculine,  it  is  the  growing  power  of  the  new 
race  that  furnishes  food  for  thought  and  ground 
for  an  ulterior  motive.  The  prospect  of  human 
rivalry  impresses  him  far  more  than  the  descrip- 
tion of  a  happiness  to  which  the  sexless  angels 
must  ever  be  strangers.  His  soul  is  keyed  in 
a  grander,  more  passionless  mood.  Apollion, 
however,  cannot  forget  this  charming  vision  of 
idyllic  joy.  He  repeats  the  same  enchanting 
strain  again  and  again.  He  even  forgets  to 
answer  his  chief's  questions,  and  returns  to  the 
same  fascinating  theme  in  : 

"  Their  life  consists 
Alone  in  loving  and  in  being  loved — 
One  sweet,  one  mutual  joy,  by  them  indulged 
Perpetually,  yet  e'er  unquenchable." 

In  this  masterly  manner  the  two  controlling 
motives  of  the  play,  the  envy  of  man's  power, 
and  the  jealousy  of  human  happiness,  are  seen 
to  originate.  The  latter,  however,  is  soon 
merged  into  the    former,   for  Apollion,  failing 

170 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

to  elicit  sympathy  with  his  tenderer  emotions, 
begins  to  sympathize  with  the  more  heroic 
mood  of  Belzebub,  and  even  attempts  to  inflame 
it  by  artful  suggestion. 

The  Archangel  Gabriel,  "  The  Herald  from 
the  towering  Throne  of  Thrones,"  now  ap- 
proaches, with  all  the  choristers  of  Heaven,  to 
unfold  the  last  divine  decree. 

From  the  mouth  of  his  golden  trumpet  fall 
the  silvery  tones  of  peace.  With  jubilant 
tongue  he  praises  the  glorious  attributes  of 
the  Deity  and  the  boundless  beneficence  of  the 
Godhead.  In  yet  grander  strain  he  prophesies 
the  ascent  of  man, 

"Who  shall  mount  up  by  the  stairway  of  the  world, 
The  firmament  of  beatific  light 
Within,  into  the  ne'er-created  glow  ;  " 

and  foretells  the  future  incarnation  of  the  Son 
of  God,  who,  "  on  his  high  seat  in  his  unshad- 
owed Realm,"  shall  judge  both  men  and  angels. 
Here  the  chorus,  after  the  manner  of  the 
antique  drama,  bursts  into  a  line  of  pious 
affirmation.  Gabriel  then  continues  his  address 
in  a  sterner  tone.  Obedience  to  the  divine 
command,  and  honor  to  the  new  race  is  hence- 
forth the  bounden  duty  of  the  angelic  hosts. 
Then  follows  a  description  of  the  three  hier- 
archies of  Heaven,  founded  upon  the  doctrine 

171 


THE  "LUCIFER:" 

of  the  Church  Fathers,  ending  with  an  eloquent 
iteration  of  the  divine  command.  As  yet  all  is 
serene.  Even  those  spirits  who  soon  shall  un- 
furl the  black  banner  of  rebellion  in  that  "  virgin 
realm  of  peace"  are  yet  unaware  that  within 
their  breasts  slumbers  a  passion  that,  awaking, 
will  fill  those  holy  courts  with  the  tumultuous 
discord  of  revolt. 

The  ringing  echoes  of  Gabriel's  clarion 
trumpet  have  scarcely  died  away,  when,  through- 
out the  clear  hyalijie,  millions  of  angelic  choris- 
ters burst  into  that  sublime  hymn  of  praise — 
that  "anthem  sung  to  harps  of  gold" — the 
grandest  ever  penned  : 

"  Who  is  it  on  His  Throne,  high-seated  ? " 

Triumphant  songs  and  glad  hosannahs  now 
float  down  those  "  arching  voids  of  empyrean 
stair."  "All  that  pleaseth  God  is  well"  is  the 
devout  conclusion  of  this  splendid  outburst  of 
celestial  praise.  Harmony  reechoes  harmony ; 
and  with  this  glorious  ode  of  jubilation  the  act 
comes  to  an  end. 

THE   CLOUD    OF   CONSPIRACY. 

In  the  second  act,  the  protagonist  first  comes 
on  the  scene,  like  a  god, 

"  With  thunder  shod, 
Crowned  with  the  stars,  and  with  the  morning  stoled." 

172 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

He  has  until  now  been  artfully  kept  in  the 
background.  Drawn  by  fire-w^inged  cherubim, 
he  sweeps  into  view,  and  voices,  in  no  uncertain 
tone,  his  dissatisfaction  with  the  divine  decree. 

Gabriel,  the  angel  of  revelation,  is  with  ad- 
mirable art  now  placed  over  against  the  Stadt- 
holder.  Lucifer  would  argue — would  know  the 
exact  nature  of  Heaven's  last  decree,  Gabriel, 
however,  merely  replies  to  his  eager  question- 
ing with  a  dignified  affirmation  of  God's  com- 
mand, and  departs,  leaving  the  divine  injunc- 
tion behind. 

Belzebub,  with  untiring  malignity,  now  prods 
the  wounded  pride  of  the  fiery  Stadtholder,  and 
Lucifer  again  and  again  blazes  into  the  most 
intense  and  bitter  defiance.  Listen  to  this 
speech,  seething  with  the  soul  of  rebellion : 

"  Now  swear  I  by  my  crown  upon  this  chance 
To  venture  all,  to  raise  my  seat  amid 
The  firmament,  the  spheres,  the  splendor  of 
The  stars  above.     The  Heaven  of  Heavens  shall  then 
My  palace  be  ;  the  rainbow  be  my  throne  ; 
The  starry  vast,  my  court  ;  while  down  beneath, 
The  Earth  shall  be  my  foot-stool  and  support  ; 
I  shall,  then  swiftly  drawn  through  air  and  light, 
High-seated  on  a  chariot  of  cloud. 
With  lightning-stroke  and  thunder  grind  to  dust 
Whate'er  above,  around,  below  doth  us 
Oppose,  were  it  God's  Marshal  grand  himself; 
Yea,  e'er  we  yield,  these  empyrean  vaults, 

173 


THE  "  LUCIFER  :♦» 

Proud  in  their  towering  masonry,  shall  burst, 

With  all  their  airy  arches,  and  dissolve 

Before  our  eyes  ;  this  huge  and  joint-racked  earth 

Like  a  misshapen  monster  lifeless  lie  ; 

This  wondrous  universe  to  chaos  fall, 

And  to  its  primal  desolation  change. 

Who  dares,  who  dares  defy  great  Lucifer  ?  " 

Surely  the  spirit  of  revolt  never  found  fiercer 
and  more  poetical  expression !  Surely  more 
eloquent  and  stupendous  daring  was  never 
uttered  than  the  blasting  fulminations  of  this 
celestial  rebel,  who  now  stands,  like  a  colossus 
of  evil  in  the  realm  of  good  ! 

The  leaders  of  the  conspiracy  then  meet  to- 
gether and  hatch  their  deep,  nefarious  plot. 
Lucifer  towers  magnificent,  the  controlling 
spirit  in  every  plan,  full  of  impelling  thought 
and  of  tremendous  action.  Apollion,  that 
"  master  wit  with  craftiness  the  spirits  to  se- 
duce, "  and  Belial,  whose  "  countenance,  smooth- 
varnished  with  dissimulation's  hue,"  knows  no 
superior  in  deception,  at  Lucifer's  command 
now  sow  the  seeds  of  dissension  broadcast 
throughout  the  Heavens.  The  dialogue  be- 
tween these  two  celestial  rogues  shows  great  dra- 
matic skill,  and  abounds  in  subtleties  worthy  of 
the  chief  himself.    Their  whole  plan  seems  to  be  : 

"Through    something   specious,    'neath   some   seeming 
guised," 

174 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

to  win  first  the  various  chiefs  and  then  the 
bravest  warriors  to  the  standard  of  the  Morning- 
star;  and  then  with  these 

"  For  all  eternity 
Mankind  to  lock  without  the  gate  of  Heaven." 

A  high-sounding  resolve, 

"That  tinkles  well  in  the  angelic  ear, 
And  flashes  like  a  flame  from  choir  to  choir." 

The  chorus  of  good  angels  again  comes  on 
the  stage,  and  with  antiphonal  harmonies  reveals 
the  growing  discontent.  How  eloquently  it 
pictures  the  serene  beauties  of  Heaven,  now 
tarnished  with  "  mournful  mists  from  darkness 
driven!"  A  beautiful  and  poetic  synthesis  of 
the  preceding  act ! 

THE   GATHERING   GLOOM. 

In  the  third  act,  the  Heavens  are  in  a  blaze 
of  uproar.  The  rebellion  is  now  widespread; 
and  revolution  is  imminent.  The  whole  act 
is  one  grand  antithesis  of  the  loyal  and  the 
seditious  angels,  or  Luciferians,  as  the  latter 
are  called.  It  is  strophe  and  anti-strophe  nearly 
all  the  way  through.  It  is  argument  and  coun- 
ter-argument from  beginning  to  end. 

With   wonderful   art,   our  sympathy   for  the 

175 


THE  "LUCIFER:" 

rank  and  file  of  the  rebellious  spirits  is  first 
awakened.  One  is  made  to  feel  that  their  dis- 
affection is  genuine  and  that  their  sorrow  is  un- 
affected. They  represent  the  dissatisfied  people, 
brought  to  the  verge  of  frenzy  by  the  wily  arts 
of  the  demagogue ;  the  howling  mob,  wanting 
only  the  kindling  spark  to  flash  into  the  flame 
of  revolt ;  the  maddened  rabble,  waiting  for  the 
master-spirit  to  spur  them  into  open  revolution. 

And  the  master-spirit  appears.  Belzebub,  by 
his  colossal  hypocrisy  and  diabolical  cunning, 
succeeds  in  drawing  them  into  an  incriminating 
attitude.  Michael,  austere  and  magnificent,  ap- 
proaches at  this  crisis,  and  these  two  chiefs 
are  then  thrown  into  admirable  juxtaposition. 
Michael's  grandeur  has  already  been  foreshad- 
owed, and  his  character  in  every  way  equals  the 
conception  of  him  that   we  were  led  to   form. 

Like  Lucifer,  he  is  preeminently  the  incarna- 
tion of  action.  He  will  not  argue.  He  does 
not  appeal.  He  is  a  god  of  battle ;  not  a 
divinity  of  words.  He  is  stern  and  powerful. 
He  is  terse  and  terribly  severe  ;  and  after  a  few 
words  full  of  scathing  scorn  and  ominous  with 
threat,  he  commands  the  virtuous  angels  to  part 
at  once  from  the  rebellious  horde.  He  then 
leaves  to  learn  the  will  of  the  Most  High. 

The  disappearance  of  Michael  is  the  signal  for 
the  advent  of  the  head  of  the  rebellion  himself. 

176 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

Lucifer  now  comes  opportunely  to  the  front. 
With  great  art  the  meeting  of  the  Field-marshal 
and  the  Stadtholder  has  been  avoided.  Such  a 
meeting  would  have  brought  about  a  premature 
crisis.  The  Luciferians,  in  a  splendid  burst  of 
appeal,  beg  the  Stadtholder's  protection.  To 
this  appeal  Lucifer  replies  in  a  speech  that  is 
sublime  in  its  hypocrisy.  He  professes  blind 
attachment  to  God,  and  proceeds  to  test  their 
sincerity  by  skillfully  opposing  questions  of 
prudence  and  arguments  of  peace,  while  at  the 
same  time  he  admits,  apparently  with  great  re- 
luctance, that  their  grievances  are  well  founded. 
He  hopes,  too,  that  their  displeasure  will  not 
be  accounted  as  a  stain  on  high,  and  that  God 
will  forgive  their  righteous  resentment. 

When,  however,  he  discovers  that  they  are 
firm  in  their  determination  to  obtain  their  rights 
by  force  of  arms,  that  they  sincerely  desire  him 
as  their  chief,  and  that  at  least  one-third  of  all 
the  spirits  are  already  numbered  among  the 
rebels,  he  throws  off  his  mask,  and  quickly 
changes  front  : 

"  Then  shall  we  venture  all,  our  favor  lost 
To  the  oppressors  of  your  lawful  right." 

He  now  again  appears  as  the  imperious  prince 
of  revolt,  and  at  Belzebub's  solicitation  mounts 
the   throne   which    the   latter    has    meanwhile 

177 


THE  "LUCIFER:'' 

prepared  for  him.  Belzebub  enjoins  the  hosts 
to  swear  allegiance  to  Lucifer  and  to  his  morn- 
ing-star, which  oath  is  given  with  a  will,  and  the 
act  is  at  an  end. 

The  chorus  of  Luciferians  then  extol  their 
leader  in  an  ode  breathing  defiance  and  blazing 
with  the  flame  of  rebellion.  The  clanging  tread 
of  a  mailed  warrior  resounds  in  every  line.  The 
note  of  triumph  rings  out  boldly  ;  and  with  pro- 
fessions of  fealty  to  their  chief,  and  kindling 
with  adoration  for  his  morning-star,  they  march 
off  the  stage.  This  ode  is  a  curious  medley  of 
antique  metres,  trochees,  dactyls,  and  spondees, 
attuned  to  tumultuous  emotion.  Boldly  regu- 
lar in  its  classic  irregularity,  it  echoes  and  re- 
echoes with  the  clamor  of  battle  and  the  shout 
of  revelry.  It  is  a  paean  keyed  in  the  strident 
chord  of  Hell. 

Scarcely  have  these  fiercely  jubilant  tones 
died  away,  when  the  good  angels  follow  with  a 
plaintive  ode  of  sorrow  that  is  a  striking  an- 
tithesis to  the  passionate  outburst  of  hate  with 
which  the  air  is  yet  reverberating. 

Strophe  and  antistrophe  proceed  in  the  same 
mournful  iambic  measure,  in  verses  sweetly 
musical  with  curious  rimes,  when  suddenly  in  the 
epode  they  break  into  a  livelier  strain,  and  in 
tripping  trochaics  give  voice  to  an  entirely  dif- 
ferent mood — a  fiery  indignation  mingled  with 

178 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

a  deep  sense  of  the  grave  crisis  that  threatens 
the  autonomy  of  Heaven. 

Here,  too,  is  a  foreshadowing  of  the  tran- 
scendent power  that  shall  quell  this  treason. 
Nothing  can  be  more  original  and  artistic  than 
these  lyrics  themselves.  Nothing  can  be  more 
harmonious  than  their  blending  with  the  action. 
Vondel  is  never  more  admirable  than  here. 

THE   SEETHING   SEAS   OF   SEDITION. 

In  the  fourth  act  the  rebellion  has  become  a 
conflagration  : 

"  The  whole  of  Heaven  glows  with  the  fierce  blaze 
Of  tumult  and  of  treachery." 

Gabriel,  winged  with  command,  comes  on  the 
scene,  and  orders  Michael,  in  the  name  of  God, 

"  To  burn  out  with  a  glow  of  fire  and  zeal 
These  dark,  polluting  stains." 

Michael  is  astounded  to  learn  of  the  treachery 
of  Lucifer,  and,  in  reply  to  his  inquiries,  Gabriel 
gives  a  beautiful  and  pathetic  account  of  the 
progress  of  the  revolt,  and  tells  how  the  radiant 
joy  of  God  became  overshadowed  with  mournful- 
ness.  Michael  now  summons  Uriel,  his  armor- 
bearer,  to  his  side,  and  at  once  proceeds  to  put 
on  his  armor,  at  the  same   time    shouting  his 

•79 


THE  '*  LUCIFER  t** 

orders  to  his  myriad  legions  around  him.  In 
the  twinkHng  of  an  eye  the  celestial  host  stands 
in  marching  array  and  is  rapidly  hurried  for- 
ward. 

We  are  now  transported  into  the  hostile 
camp,  where  Lucifer  is  seen  questioning  his 
generals  as  to  the  number  and  the  disposition 
of  his  forces.  Belzebub  replies  with  a  lucid 
and  highly  colored  report,  saying  that  the  de- 
serters sweep  onward  with 

"  A  rush  and  roar  from  every  firmament, 
Like  a  vast  sea  aglow  with  radiant  lights." 

Lucifer  is  much  pleased  to  learn  this,  and  from 
his  throne  addresses  his  flaming  squadrons  in  a 
speech  bristling  with  warlike  reason  and  full  of 
indomitable  courage. 

He  fully  apprehends  the  enormity  of  his 
offense,  and  cunningly  makes  his  hearers  equal 
sharers  in  his  guilt.  Retreat  is  now  impossible. 
The  celestial  Rubicon  is  crossed.  They  have 
already  burnt  all  bridges  behind  them.  "  Ne- 
cessity, therefore,"  he  says,  "  must  be  our  law." 
If  defeated,  God  himself  cannot  wholly  annihi- 
late them  ;  while  if  they  chance  to  win,  "  the 
hated  tyranny  of  Heaven  "  shall  then  be  changed 
into  a  state  of  freedom  ;  nor  shall  the  angels 
then  be  forced 

"To  pant  beneath  the  yoke  of  servitude  forever." 

1 80 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

Once  more  he  demands  the  oath  of  alle- 
giance, and  is  about  to  give  the  command, 
"  Forward  !  "  when  Belzebub  espies  the  beauti- 
ful figure  of  Rafael  winging  his  golden  way 
•hrough  the  crystal  empyrean  on  a  mission  of 
nercy. 

Even  Belzebub  is  touched  at  this  unlooked- 
for  sign  of  angelic  affection,  and  his  tone, 
usually  so  sarcastic  and  so  severely  deliberate, 
as  he  announces  his  advent,  is  softened  to  a 
transient  tenderness.  For  once  he  has  forgot-- 
ten  his  usual  mocking  air,  and  this  exquisite 
touch  does  much  to  relieve  the  sombre  impres- 
sion of  his  tremendous  malignity. 

Rafael,  a  celestial  St.  John,  melting  with  love 
for  the  Stadtholder,  falls  in  a  paroxysm  of  grief 
and  tenderness  upon  his  neck.  We  intuitively 
feel  that  some  secret  bond  of  sympathy  must 
bind  these  two  angels,  so  dissimilar  in  spirit 
and  in  character,  together. 

Lucifer,  overwhelming  in  passion,  gigantic  in 
intellect,  resistless  in  will — magnificent  in  his 
whole  personality ;  Rafael,  sublime  in  devotion, 
infinite  in  pity,  immaculate  in  holiness — the 
apotheosis  of  all  that  is  beautiful !  Lucifer, 
whose  eyes  flash  ambition  and  whose  heart 
flames  hate  ;  Rafael,  whose  gaze  is  aspiration 
and  whose  soul  is  love  !  The  genius  of  evil  and 
the  spirit  of  virtue  ;  the  proudly  wicked  and  the 

i8i 


THE  "LUCIFER:" 

meekly  good  !  The  infernal  masculine  stands 
confronted  by  the  heavenly  feminine ;  harsh 
violence  is  caressed  by  loving  gentleness,  and 
pride  and  humility  embrace !  Truly  a  masterly 
antithesis! 

In  a  strain  of  glorious  appeal,  Rafael  begs 
Lucifer  to  desist,  and  first  aims  at  the  weakest 
point  in  his  armor — his  pride.  How  splendid 
his  description  of  Lucifer's  glory  !  His  former 
pomp  is  here  artistically  pictured  to  heighten 
the  contrast  with  his  fall. 

He  next  proceeds  to  threaten,  and  gives  an 
equally  vivid  picture  of  the  horrible  punish- 
ments— "  the  worm,  endless  remorse,  and  ever- 
during  pain " — reserved  for  him.  He  then 
offers  his  olive  branch  as  a  token  of  divine 
mercy,  and  urges  immediate  acceptance  be- 
fore it  is  forever  too  late.  Truth  offers  hope 
to  error  on  the  high-road  to  despair;  peace 
pours  her  golden  offering  at  the  iron  feet  of 
war  ! 

Lucifer,  proud  in  his  consciousness  of  strength, 
as  the  chosen  head  of  millions  of  angelic  war- 
riors, one-third  of  the  entire  spirit  world,  is, 
however,  unmoved.  He  asseverates  that  he 
merely  wishes  to  uphold  the  ancient  charter. 
The  standard  of  revolt  is  also  the  banner  of 
right.  Duty  has  called;  justice  commanded; 
friendship  inspired  him  to  take  this  step  for  the 

182 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

protection    of    the   celestial    Fatherland.     He, 

too,  then, 

"  With  necessity, 
The  tyrant's  plea,  excused  his  devilish  deeds." 

Hear  his  own  words  : 

"I  shall  maintain  the  holy  right,  compelled 
By  high  necessity,  thus  urged  at  length, 
Though  much  against  my  will,  by  the  complaints 
And  mournful  groans  of  myriad  tongues." 

Rafael  stands  aghast  at  the  picture  of  such 
hardened  wickedness.  His  hairs  rise  with  fear 
to  hear  the  Archangel's  shameless  confession, 
and  he  promptly  accuses  him  of  ambition  and 
of  gross  deceit. 

Lucifer,  however,  indignantly  denies  this,  and 
proudly  asserts  that  he  has  always  done  his  full 
duty.  Rafael  then  reads  aloud  his  evil  purpose 
as  it  is  written  in  lurid  letters  on  his  heart. 
The  astonished  chief  no  longer  denies  his  lust 
for  power,  but  claims  the  prerogative  of  his 
position  as  the  Stadtholder  of  God.  At  last  he 
is  brought  to  the  acknowledgment  that  the 
ascent  of  man  is  the  stone  upon  which  his 
"  battle-axe  shall  whet  its  edge." 

Rafael,  like  an  angel  of  light,  then  pleads  with 
this  spirit  of  darkness  in  tones  of  sweetest  ten- 
derness.    He  stands  here  like  a  personified  con- 

183 


THE  "LUCIFER:" 

science.  He  would  be  the  guardian  angel  of  the 
great  Stadtholder.  Not  a  harsh  word  escapes  the 
stern  lips  of  the  flaming  Archangel.  His  own 
vast  knowledge  and  his  deep  heart  testify  how 
good  are  the  intentions  of  his  friend.  What 
visions  are  here  called  up  of  the  happy  days  of 
their  friendship,  when  they  basked  in  the  untar- 
nished splendors  of  Heaven,  before  a  thought 
of  evil  had  tolled  the  funeral  knell  of  peace  ! 

Argument  after  argument,  in  cumulative 
progression,  falls  from  the  pleader's  mellifluous 
tongue.  Lucifer  is  stern  and  unyielding.  Still 
Rafael  pleads  on.  For  an  instant  Lucifer 
falters.  Rafael  sees  his  advantage  ;  and  not 
only  again  offers  him  his  olive  branch,  but 
appoints  himself  as  Lucifer's  hostage  with  God 
— so  sure  is  he  of  obtaining  mercy. 

Lucifer  is  almost  overcome;  but  the  thought 
of  his  morning-star  setting  in  shame  and  dark- 
ness, and  a  vision  of  his  enemies  defiant  on  the 
throne,  still  steels  his  heart  in  its  obstinate 
resolve. 

Rafael  next  pictures  for  him,  in  lurid  colors, 
the  lake  of  brimstone  down  below,  whose  mouth 
yawns  for  his  destruction.  Once  more,  for  the 
third  time,  he  offers  the  Archrebel  the  branch 
of  peace,  and  promises  full  grace. 

Lucifer  then  gives  voice  to  that  grand  solilo- 
quy, beginning: 

184 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

"What  creature  else  so  wretched  is  as  I  ? 
On  the  one  side  fliclcer  feeble  rays  of  hope, 
While  on  the  other  yawns  a  flaming  horror." 

Here  he  reveals  for  the  first  time  his  inmost 
heart.  This  is  the  crisis  of  his  career — the 
chmax  of  the  whole  play.  Nowhere  is  the 
suspense  so  keen.  One  wonders  how  the  Arch- 
angel will  decide  in  this  critical  moment : 

"  This  brevity  twixt  bliss  and  endless  doom." 

His  pride  of  will  has  in  one  stroke  become  a 
chaos  of  indecision.  We  are  made  to  sympa- 
thize with  his  terrible  anguish,  as  the  logic  of 
his  remorse-throbbing  conscience  leads  him  to 
the  bitter  adversative  : 

"  But  'tis  too  late — all  hope  is  past." 

The  ominous  sound  of  Michael's  battle 
trumpet  rudely  awakes  him  from  his  revery, 
and  forces  him  to  the  stern  realization  of  the 
impending  strife.  Just  at  this  moment,  also, 
Apollion  soars  into  his  presence  with  the  news 
of  the  near  approach  of  God's  Field-marshal. 

Lucifer,  however,  is  as  yet  too  agitated,  so 
soon  after  his  sudden  apprehension  of  the 
enormity  of  his  crime  and  of  the  terrible 
punishment  reserved  for  him  in  the  probable 
event  of  his  defeat,  to  respond  with  alacrity  to 

185 


THE  "LUCIFER:" 

the  summons.  It  is  with  great  difficulty  that 
he  rouses  himself  from  his  soliloquizing  mood. 
He  must  think  ;  but  although  he  feels  far  more 
than  his  followers  that 

"  The  lieavy  bolt  of  war  should  not  be  weighed 
Too  lightly," 

and  although  he  well  knows  that  the  odds  are 
against  him,  he  has,  by  the  time  that  his  other 
chieftains  approach,  quite  recovered  himself,  and 
at  once  gives  the  quick,  sharp  command  of  the 
soldier.  The  time  for  action  has  come.  Behind 
their  towering  leader,  amid  the  blare  of  bugles 
and  the  trumpet's  stirring  tones,  his  serried  bat- 
talions march  with  waving  banners  off  the  stage. 

Of  this  busy  scene  Rafael,  meanwhile,  has 
been  a  silent  but  interested  spectator.  Now 
alone  in  his  sorrow,  he  melts  into  a  compas- 
sionate monologue ;  and,  joined  by  the  chorus, 
gives  utterance  to  that  beautiful  lyric  of  grief, 
that  tender  prayer  so  full  of  the  sweet  melody  of 
appeal,  at  the  end  of  the  fourth  act.  Amid  the 
jarring  clamor  and  the  frenzied  shout  of  the 
departing  squadrons,  this  anthem  of  mercy  rises 
to  God  like  a  benediction.  Over  the  passion 
waves  of  the  tumultuous  hell  of  rebellion  around 
them,  their  voices  tremble  like  the  echoes  of 
a  heaven  forever  lost. 

Surely,  the  emotion  of  forgiving  compassion 

i86 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

was  never  combined  with  a  more  musical  sorrow. 
Here,  as  in  all  of  Vondel's  lyrics,  there  is  a 
perfect  harmony  between  the  form  and  the 
thought. 

FLOOD   AND   FLAME. 

At  the  opening  of  the  last  act,  Rafael  is 
discovered  on  the  battlements  of  Heaven.  He 
is  in  a  fever  of  anxiety  to  learn  the  result  of 
the  contest,  and  peers  into  the  empyrean  for 
some  sign  of  a  messenger  from  the  field, 

"  Where  armies  reel  on  slopes  with  lightning  crowned." 

The  glad  sounds  of  approaching  triumph  fall 
on  his  ear.  Across  the  pure  hyaline  now  dart 
meteoric  flashes  of  light.  Each  shield  of  the 
victorious  legions  dazzles  like  a  sun  : 

"  Each  shield-sun  streams  a  day  of  triumph  forth." 

Far  in  advance  of  the  returning  battalions 
speeds  Uriel,  "  Angel  with  swiftest  wing," 
bearing  the  message  of  victory.  With  in- 
credible velocity — for  he  is  winged  with  good 
news — he  flashes  through  the  air,  in  his  "  aery 
wheels  "  exultingly  waving  his  "  flaming,  keen, 
two-edged  sword."  He  has  reached  the  serene 
altitude  of  Heaven.  He  has  gained  the  farthest 
wall.     He  is  at  hand. 

187 


THE  "LUCIFER:" 

Rafael  is  full  of  eagerness  to  hear  the  details 
of  the  fight,  the  particulars  of  "  this  the  first 
campaign  in  Heaven."  Uriel  then,  "  with 
sequence  just,"  gives  a  vivid  account  of  the 
preparations  for  battle,  beginning  with  the 
moment  when  Gabriel  first  informed  Michael 
of  the  defection  of  the  Stadtholder. 

He  tells  how  the  countless  loyal  legions,  at 
their  chief's  command,  deploy  themselves  in 
battle  line  until  they  form  in  serried  rank 

"  One  firm 
Trilateral  host  that  like  a  triangle 
Thrust  out  its  edges  sharp  upon  the  eye." 

Michael,  the  Field-marshal,  stands  in  the 
heart  of  this  triangle,  towering  high  above  his 
fellows,  the  personification  of  judgment, 

"  With  the  glow 
Of  lurid  lightnings  in  his  lifted  hand." 

Splendid  is  the  picture  of  the  infernal  host ; 
their  squadrons, 

"  Battalion  on  battalion,  riders  pale 
On  dim  mysterious  chargers," 

advance  in  the  form  of  a  crescent  moon.  Belze- 
bub  and  Belial  command  the  two  horns  of  this 
formidable  array, 

"  Both  standing  there  in  shining  panoply, 
Vying  in  splendors  grand." 

i88 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

Lucifer  himself  holds  the  centre,  "the  point 
strategic  "  of  his  army,  while  Apollion  behind 
him  bears  on  high  the  lofty  standard  with  its 
streaming  morning-star. 

Rafael,  in  his  excitement,  occasionally  in- 
terrupts this  graphic  description  with  excla- 
mations of  wonder,  and,  as  the  story  of  the 
terrible  conflict  progresses,  also  with  occasional 
cries  of  horror  and  of  pity.  Great  art  is  shown 
in  the  introduction  of  these  exclamatory  pauses 
into  the  long  account  of  the  battle  scene.  It 
not  only  gives  the  narrator  time  to  get  breath, 
but  voices  the  feelings  of  the  listener,  and  inten- 
sifies his  suspense. 

Then  follows  a  brilliant  account  of  the  Stadt- 
holder.  As  the  rebel  chief  is  the  protagonist, 
and  as  the  seditious  angels  furnish  the  subject 
matter  for  the  drama,  the  poet  has  artistically 
described  them  at  great  length.  At  last  the 
two  armies  confront  each  other.  We  are  now 
made  to  see  how  they 

"  Panted  for  strife  and  for  destruction  flamed." 

Then  follows  the  famous  battle  scene,  which 
must  be  read  in  the  poet's  own  thrilling  words. 
Here  is  action  in  every  line,  a  battle  stroke  in 
each  word. 

After  the  first  onset,  the  celestial  legions 
begin  by  circling  wheels  to  soar  aloft,  whence, 

189 


THE  "LUaFER:" 

like  a  falcon,  they  shall  soon  precipitate  them- 
selves upon  their  enemies,  who,  having  also  risen, 
but  with  heavier  sail,  are  likened  to  a  flock  of 
drowsing  herons,  thrown  into  sudden  consterna- 
tion by  the  sight  of  their  dreaded  foe. 

Uriel  now  gives  a  striking  picture  of  the 
grand  perspective  above — the  celestial  legions, 
high  in  the  empyrean,  arrayed  like  a  shining 
triangle,  the  symbol  of  the  Trinity ;  far  be- 
neath, the  infernal  phalanx,  gleaming  like  a 
crescent  on  the  turbaned  brow  of  night,  the 
sign  of  the  Turk,  whose  ferocious  hordes,  even 
in  Vondel's  time,  were  yet  thundering  at  the 
gate  of  Christendom.     Thus  each  army  hangs: 

"Suspended  like  a  silent  cloud, 
Full  weighted  'gainst  the  balanced  air." 

Again  the  celestial  triangle,  with  terrific  force, 
crashes  into  the  infernal  half-moon,  and  flames 
of  brimstone,  red  and  blue,  flash  far  out  into  the 
sky.  Thunderbolt  on  thunderbolt,  unchained, 
leap  with  angry  roar  into  the  surging  horde, 
leaving  havoc,  ruin,  and  desolation  in  their  lurid 
wake.  The  centre  of  the  half-moon  begins  to 
break;  and  its  pointed  horns  nearly  meet  to- 
gether behind  the  resistless  triangle. 

Lucifer  performs  wonderful  feats  of  valor. 
High  on  his  blazing  chariot,  he  is  a  conspicu- 
ous figure.     His  fierce  team,  "the  lion  and  the 

190 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

dragon  blue,"  symbolic  of  pride  and  envy, 
enraged  by  the  battle-strokes  rained  upon  their 
starry  backs,  fly  forward  with  fearful  strides — 
the  lion,  with  dreadful  bellows,  biting  and  rend- 
ing; while  his  terrible  mate  shoots  pest-provok- 
ing poisons  from  his  frothy  tongue,  and, 

"...     Raving,  fills  the  air 
With  smoke  blown  from  his  nostrils  far  and  wide." 

On  every  side  the  infernal  chief  is  surrounded 
by  his  enemies.  They  try  to  overpower  him 
with  mere  numbers.  He  parries  every  stroke, 
or  breaks  their  force  upon  his  shield.  He  then 
waves  his  battle-axe  aloft  to  fell  God's  glowing 
banner,  when  Michael,  clad  in  glittering  armor, 
"like  a  god  amid  a  ring  of  suns,"  suddenly  con- 
fronts him. 

The  Archangel  sternly  calls  upon  the  rebel 
Prince  to  surrender.  But  Lucifer,  unmoved, 
three  times  with  his  war-axe  strives  to  cleave 
the  diamond  shield  of  Michael,  wherein  blazed 
God's  most  holy  name.  The  axe  rebounds  and 
shivers  into  fragments ;  and  we  cannot  but 
sympathize  with  the  Archrebel,  who  is  now  in 
a  bad  plight  indeed.  The  grand  catastrophe 
to  which  the  swift  current  of  his  wickedness 
has  been  bearing  him  is  at  last  at  hand,  re- 
served with  consummate  art  until  the  middle  of 
this  act. 


THE  "LUCIFER;" 

Michael  lifts  his  terrible  right  hand,  and 
through  the  helmet  and  head  of  his  disarmed 
but  yet  unconquered  foe  he  smites  his  light- 
nings, cleaving  unto  his  very  eyes.  The  force  of 
this  blow  is  such  that  Lucifer  is  hurled  from  his 
chariot,  which  follows  him  downward,  whirling 
round  and  round  in  its  descent : 

"Thus  lion,  dragon,  driver,  all  plunge  down." 

In  vain  the  fierce  swarms  of  warring  rebels 
attempt  to  stay  their  chief.  Uriel  engages 
Apollion,  and  succeeds  in  wresting  from  him 
the  rebel  banner  with  its  morning-star.  Belze- 
bub  and  Belial  still  fight  on  ;  but  their  legions 
are  all  confused.  The  crescent  has  now  become 
a  disorganized  mob, 

"And  o'er  them  fell  destruction  rolls  its  flood." 

In  vain  Apollion  comes  back  into  the  field, 
reinforced  by  the  monsters  from  the  firmament 
of  Heaven,  which  may  be  supposed  to  typify, 
as  Vondel  says  in  his  preface,  the  abuse  of  the 
forces  of  nature  by  the  Devil  to  effect  his  evil 
designs. 

Orion,  shrieking  until  the  very  air  grows 
faint,  strives  to  crush  the  head  of  the  assault, 
that 

"...     Heedless  of 
Orion  or  his  club,  moves  grandly  on." 

>92 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

The  Northern  Bears  stand  upon  their  haunches 
to  oppose  their  brutish  strength.  The  Hydra 
gapes  with  poison-breathing  throats.  But,  un- 
mindful of  all  these,  the  triangle  still  advances. 
Numerous  other  episodes,  in  the  meanwhile,  are 
happening  along  the  line  of  battle;  but  the 
suspense  is  at  last  over.  The  victory  of  the 
celestial  angels  is  a  glorious  fact. 

Rafael  now  gives  utterance  to  exclamations 
of  praise,  and  asks  Uriel  concerning  the  effect  of 
his  defeat  on  the  fallen  Archangel.  Uriel  then 
recounts  his  terrible  punishment,  and  relates 
how  his  splendid  beauty  was  now  become,  in 
falling,  a  complication  of  seven  dreadful  mon- 
sters, typifying  the  seven  deadly  sins.  That 
beast,  says  the  narrator, 

"  Doth  shrink  to  view  its  own  deformity, 

And  veils  with  darkling  mists  its  Gorgon  face." 

The  fate  of  the  protagonist  being  known, 
Rafael  next  wishes  to  learn  what  became  of  the 
rest  of  the  rebel  host.  Then  follows  the  account 
of  the  tumultuous  rout,  wherein  the  fleeing 
hordes,  in  their  descent  to  Hell,  also  undergo  a 
metamorphosis  into  the  forms  of  strange  and 
uncouth  monsters. 

At  this  point  the  triumphant  Michael  himself 
approaches  with  his  victorious  legions,  laden 
with  glorious  plunder.     The  celestial  choristers, 

193 


THE  "LUCIFER:'' 

strewing  their  laurel  leaves,  accompanied  by  the 
sound  of  cymbal,  pipe,  and  drum,  now  greet 
him  with  a  song  of  jubilation  which,  even  more 
than  most  of  Vondel's  lyrics,  is  peculiar  for  the 
intricacy  of  its  rimes. 

"  Hail  to  the  hero,  hail,"  they  cry.  The 
spirit  and  liveliness  of  this  paean  are  emi- 
nently suited  to  voice  the  long  pent-up  plaudits 
of  the  angels.  The  regularity  of  this  ode,  with 
its  rapid  melodious  swing,  is  a  marked  contrast 
to  the  strident  enthusiasm  and  the  discordant 
harmony  of  the  chorus  of  Luciferians  at  the  end 
of  Act  III. 

As  soon  as  the  joyful  reverberations  of  the 
battle-hymn  have  ceased  to  roll  through  the 
interminable  arches  on  high,  Michael  addresses 
his  legions  and  the  assembled  hosts  in  a  speech 
of  great  dignity,  ascribing  the  glory  of  the 
victory  to  God  alone.  He  speaks  proudly  of 
the  spoils  of  battle,  which  have  already  been 
hung  on  the  bright  axis  of  Heaven. 

"  No  more  shall  we,"  says  he, 

"  Behold  the  glow  of  Majesty  supreme 
Dimmed  by  the  damp  of  base  ingratitude." 

He  next  pictures  the  defeated  rebels  as: 

"  .     .     .     All  blind  and  overcast 
With  shrouding  mists,  and  horribly  deformed." 

194 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

Then  he  concludes  with  stern  sententiousness: 
"  Thus  is  his  fate  who  would  assail  God's  Throne," 

which  the  choristers  as  gravely  repeat. 

The  expected  catastrophe  has  occurred,  and 
the  terrible  conclusion  has  been  described.  In 
the  stormy  wake  of  the  sad  fall  of  the  angels 
follows  the  no  less  sad  fall  of  man — the  loss  of 

"  The  primal  innocence  'mid  Eden's  bowers." 

The  heaving,  seething  seas  of  rebellion,  "  swol- 
len to  the  skies,"  have,  it  is  true,  subsided ;  but 
again  they  gather  momentum  for  one  more 
wave  of  disaster,  which  now  breaks  upon  the 
shore  of  Earth,  spreading  death  and  desolation 
throughout  the  sinless  groves  of  Paradise  ;  for 
Gabriel  now  approaches  and  hurls  into  the  joy- 
ful camp  a  thunderbolt  of  sad  surprise.  "  Alas  ! 
alas!"  he  cries,  breaking  into  lamentation,  "our 
triumph  is  in  vain;"  and  he  announces  the  fall 
of  Adam. 

Michael  is  astounded,  and  shudders  as  he 
hears  the  news.  With  infinite  distress  he  listens 
to  Gabriel's  interesting  account  of  how  the  over- 
throw was  effected.  Gabriel  first  describes  the 
"dim,  infernal  consistory  "  far,  far  below.  Here 
Lucifer  called  together  all  his  chieftains,  who 

now 

"  Unto  each  other  turned  abhorring  gaze." 
19s 


THE  "LUCIFER;" 

Then, 

"  High-seated  'mid  his  councillors  of  state," 

the  Archfiend,  whose  character  is  now  shown 
in  its  full  development,  addressed  his  followers 
in  words  full  of  bitter  rage  against  God — a 
striking  contrast  to  the  dignity  of  Michael's 
address. 

His' heart  is  now  a  hell  of  hate,  boiling  with 
passion  for  revenge.  The  Heavens  must  be 
persecuted  and  circumvented,  and  this  must 
be  done  by  the  ruin  of  man.  With  prophetic 
eye  he  pictures  his  future  dominion  on  earth, 
and  the  myriad  miseries  into  which  the  fall 
shall  plunge  mankind.  He  then  promises  his 
fellow-conspirators  the  future  adoration  of  the 
human  race,  when  as  heathen  gods  and  pagan 
deities  they  shall  receive  the  praise  of  count- 
less multitudes  of  men. 

At  this  point  Michael  breaks  into  fierce  exe- 
crations, making  a  vow  of  summary  and  con- 
dign punishment.  Gabriel  then  continues  to 
relate  how  Lucifer  selected  Belial  as  the  most 
worthy  instrument  to  seduce  the  happy  pair. 
Belial,  taking  upon  himself  the  form  of  the 
Serpent,  succeeds  most  fiendishly  in  his  unholy 
mission,  first,  as  in  the  Biblical  account,  alluring 
Eve,  who  in  turn  tempts  Adam.  Their  fall 
and  shame  and  misery  are  pathetically  told.    In 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

the  midst  of  this  sad  story  the  chorus  interjects 
its  wail  of  sympathy,  while  Gabriel  continues  by 
narrating  the  colloquy  of  the  hapless  twain 
with  God. 

Gabriel  then  gives  the  woeful  details  of  their 
penalty,  and  presents  a  dismal  picture  of  future 
wretchedness,  against  the  blackness  of  which, 
however,  is  one  bright  star — the  promise  of  the 
Strong  One,  the  Hero  who  shall  crush  the  Ser- 
pent's head. 

Gabriel  now  commands  Michael  to  place  all 
things  in  their  wonted  place  lest  the  malicious 
spirits  should  "  further  mischief  brew."  Michael, 
the  spirit  of  eternal  order,  then  proceeds  to 
reduce  this  chaos  of  evil  to  final  subjection. 

He  first  sends  Uriel  down, 

"To  drive  the  pair  from  Eden  who  have  dared 
Transgress,  so  rash  and  blind,  the  primal  law." 

His  duty  it  is,  also,  to  force  mankind 

"To  labor,  sweat,  and  arduous  slavery." 

He  is,  furthermore,  to  act  as  sentinel  over  the 
garden  and  over  the  tree  of  the  knowledge  of 
good  and  evil. 

Ozias  is  enjoined  to  capture  and  securely 
bind  the  host  of  the  infernal  animals  with  the 
lion   and  the   dragon,   who   so   furiously   raged 

147 


THE  ''LUCIFER:" 

against  the  standard  of  Heaven.     Listen  to  this 
stern  command  : 

"Sweep  from  the  sky  these  hordes  accursed,  and  bind 
Them  neck  and  claw,  and  chain  them  forcibly." 

Azarias  is  entrusted  with  the  key  of  the  bot- 
tomless abyss,  wherein  he  is  commanded  to 
lock  all  that  assail  the  powers  of  Heaven.  To 
Maceda  is  given  the  torch  to  light  the  sulphur- 
ous lake  down  in  the  centre  of  the  earth, 
wherein  Lucifer,  the  evil-breeding  protagonist, 
with  poetic  justice,  so  near  the  scene  of  his  last 
flagrant  crime,  is  doomed  to  endless  solitary 
torment ;    there, 

".     .     .     In  the  eternal  fire 
Unquenchable,  with  chilling  frosts  commingled," 

"Amid  the  bitter  blast  of  memory's  regret," 

to  suffer  the  throes  of  ten  thousand  hells,  and  to 
discover 

"  How  slow  time  limps  upon  a  crutch  of  pain," 

through  an  eternity  of  keen  remorse. 

For  the  last  time  the  chorus  comes  on  the 
stage,  echoing  in  a  brief  epilogue  the  one  silvery 
voice  of  hope  that  speaks  from  that  dark  con- 
clusion of  multitudinous  despair. 

It,  too,   gives    promise    of    a    brighter    dawn, 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

wherein  the  "grand  deliverer"  shall  cleanse 
fallen  man  of  the  "  foul  taint  original,"  opening 
for  him  a  fairer  Paradise  on  high,  where  the 
thrones,  made  vacant  by  the  fall  of  the  angels, 
shall,  as  in  Caedmon,  be  filled  by  the  glorified 
souls  of  the  children  of  men  Thus  the  specta- 
tor is  left  attuned  to  the  triumph  of  Christ  in 
the  promised  reconciliation,  and  the  work  of 
redemption  is  made  complete. 

In  this  noble  ending,  evil,  though  not  anni- 
hilated, is  controlled;  the  good  is  victorious; 
and  Heaven  is  once  more  restored  to  its  pristine 
holiness.  The  fallen  angels,  the  imperious 
lords  of  Heaven,  have  been  succeeded  by  the 
lowly  third  estate,  the  human  worms  whom 
they  so  much  despised. 

Thus  here,  too,  revolution  has  proved  pro- 
gression. The  storm  of  war  has  ceased,  and 
above  the  thunder-mantled  sky  shines  the 
glorious  rainbow  of  peace. 

THE   "LUCIFER"   AS   A   DRAMA. 

Like  all  of  Vondel's  dramas,  the  "  Lucifer  "  is 
after  the  Greek  model ;  and  surely  that  model 
was  never  inspiration  for  a  more  splendid  trag- 
edy. Vondel's  idea  of  the  classic  drama  was  de- 
rived from  the  close  study  of  the  ancients  and 
their  modern  Dutch  commentators — Heinsius, 

199 


THE  "LUCIFER:" 

Vossius,  Grotius,  Barlaeus,  and  other  Latinists 
of  renown. 

The  "  Lucifer  "  is  a  tragedy  after  Chaucer's 
own  heart : 

"  Tragedis  is  to  sayn  a  certeyn  storie, 
As  olde  bokes  maken  us  memorie, 
Of  hem  that  stood  in  greet  prosperity, 
And  is  yfallen  out  of  heigh  degree 
Into  miserie,  and  endith  wrecchedly." 

There  is  no  death,  no  blood,  no  murder.  It 
is  the  drama  of  a  magnificent  ruin  ! 

The  action  of  the  play,  pursuing  the  straight 
track  of  one  controlHng  purpose,  and  moving 
with  terrible  majesty  to  the  goal  of  an  inevi- 
table destiny,  also  makes  it  a  tragedy  in  the  larger 
dramatic  sense.  The  wonderful  characteriza- 
tion and  the  overpowering  ethical  motive  also 
make  its  application  universal.  The  epico- 
lyrical  quality  of  this  drama,  furthermore,  gives 
it  a  force  and  cohesiveness  unattainable  by 
either  epic  or  lyric. 

True,  the  "  Lucifer  "  as  a  drama  does  not  deal 
with  men.  However,  this  is  a  distinction  with- 
out a  difference;  for  the  characters,  while  they 
command  our  awe  as  divinities  not  subject  to 
the  limitations  of  this  carnal  shroud,  the  body, 
are  yet  sufTficiently  human  to  elicit  our  warmest 
sympathy. 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

It  is,  moreover,  a  play  full  of  heart-agitating 
passion  ;  and  it  is  addressed,  in  a  most  extra- 
ordinary degree,  to  the  moral  nature — the  chief 
function  of  all  tragedy.  Here,  too,  as  in  the 
great  drama  of  the  universe,  the  divine  law  is 
the  first  propelling  cause  of  the  action. 

The  clash  of  interests  and  the  logical  destiny 
of  cause  and  effect  carry  the  tragic  subject 
without  apparent  effort  to  its  denouement. 
The  causes  are  everywhere  adequate  to  produce 
the  effects,  and  no  trivial  effects  are  the  result 
of  the  huge  action  ;  no  mountain  is  set  in  travail 
to  bring  forth  a  mouse.  The  disposition  of  the 
characters  also  conforms  to  our  sense  of  justice, 
and  their  development  is  everywhere  within  the 
range  of  probability. 

Besides  the  main  theme,  ambition,  and  the 
chief  object,  self-aggrandizement,  are  various 
incidental  themes  and  objects  which  naturally 
arise  out  of  the  circumstances  and  conditions 
of  the  play.  This  is,  however,  but  natural,  and 
only  renders  the  drama  more  varied  and  interest- 
ing ;  these  little  streams  of  interest  being  but 
tributaries  to  the  main  stream  of  the  action, 
contributing  to,  rather  than  retarding,  its  ma- 
jestic sweep  to  the  Niagara  of  its  catastrophe. 

The  drama,  though  concerning  the  divine 
beings  of  another  sphere,  conforms,  except 
where  tradition  or   religion  has  invested  these 


THE  "LUaFER:" 

with  extraordinary  qualities  and  powers,  to  the 
physical  requirements  of  this,  thus  making  it 
more  probable  and  the  action  more  dramatic. 

The  dramatist  is  a  veritable  illusion-weaving 
magician,  leading -the  spectator  through  tor- 
tuous mazes  of  expectation  into  a  labyrinth 
of  suspense.  The  end  is  reached,  and  lo  !  the 
path  which  appeared  so  bewilderingly  crooked 
is  straight  and  direct,  without  a  turn  to  its 
starting  point.  Everywhere,  too,  the  mind  of 
the  reader  cooperates  with  the  mind  of  the 
poet  in  his  logical  appeals  to  the  heart. 

The  action,  moreover,  has  its  mainspring  in 
error,  and  ends  in  showing  the  natural  conse- 
quences of  crime,  with  a  picture  of  the  sin 
atoned  though  not  unpunished. 

Nowhere  is  the  human  interest  of  this  drama 
lessened  by  grand  scenic  displays.  These  are 
truly  splendid  ;  but  even  such  sublime  proper- 
ties as  the  universe  affords  only  heighten  the 
interest  by  showing  that,  after  all,  "  the  think- 
ing will  "  we  call  the  soul  is  the  noblest  work  of 
God.  As  played  on  the  stage,  the  drama  must 
have  had  exceedingly  simple,  though  perhaps 
somewhat  costly,  accessories. 

Nothing  in  the  play  is  more  admirable  than 
the  uninterrupted  contrast  of  thought  and  the 
constant  antithesis  of  character.  Nothing,  fur- 
thermore,  can   surpass  the  inimitable  art  with 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

which  the  monologue  is  handled  at  the  critical 
moments  that  determine  a  character,  as  in 
Lucifer's  soul-revealing  soliloquy  in  the  fourth 
act.  Here  the  action,  though  still  sweeping 
irresistibly  on,  seems  to  be  in  perfect  poise, 
while  the  inmost  secrets  of  the  heart  are  laid 
bare. 

In  his  dialogue,  also,  Vondel  is  simple  and 
direct.  The  conversation  is  always  used  to 
recall,  to  suggest,  or  to  display  some  motive 
that  binds,  while,  at  the  same  time,  it  urges,  the 
action.  In  such  scenes,  of  course,  talk  is 
action. 

If  art  is,  as  some  assert,  a  thing  of  propor- 
tions, then  surely  this  drama  is  entitled  to  the 
highest  praise  ;  for  its  proportions  are  irrep- 
rehensible.  If,  too,  as  Ruskin  says,  "  Poe- 
try is  the  suggestion  by  the  imagination  of 
noble  grounds  for  the  noble  emotions,"  as  a 
poem,  also,  it  is  unsurpassed.  There  are,  in- 
deed, as  many  definitions  of  poetry  as  there  are 
poets.     The  "  Lucifer"  is  Vondel's  definition. 

It  is  conception  that  suggests  the  correlated 
thought.  It  is  construction  that  shapes  it  to 
the  stature  of  a  grand  design ;  and  construction 
is  the  highest  form  of  the  creative  intellect ;  for 
was  it  not  this  same  power  that  framed  the 
templed  universe  out  of  the  scattered  fragments 
of  countless  millions  of  stars  ?     It  is  in  construc- 

203 


THE  "LUCIFER I ♦' 

tion,  the  highest  requisite  of  the  dramatist, 
wherein  the  "Lucifer"  is  most  grand.  The 
architecture  of  the  play  is  as  symmetrical 
as  a  beautiful  Greek  temple. 

There  is  no  obscurity  in  this  classic  drama, 
into  which,  moreover,  the  poet  has  introduced 
enough  of  the  modern  romantic  to  lend  it 
vivacity  and  interest.  Such  a  subject  could  not 
have  been  cast  save  in  a  classic  mould.  The 
romantic  drama  would  not  have  been  equal  to 
the  majestic  dignity  and  the  stately  style  de- 
manded by  this  sublime  theme. 

Each  act,  with  its  own  subordinate  conclu- 
sion, is  followed  by  a  chorus  which  not  only 
fills  the  pause,  but  also  intensifies,  while  at  the 
same  time  it  relieves,  the  suspense.  These 
choruses,  noble  melodies  of  retrospect,  are  yet 
charged  with  the  rumbling  thunder  of  the  com- 
ing catastrophe.  Each  is,  as  it  were,  an  incar- 
nate conscience,  the  concentrated  echo  of  the 
preceding  act,  gathering  around  it  the  action, 
and  blending  harmoniously  with  it. 

Vondel  is  one  of  the  few  moderns  who 
grasped  the  fact  that  the  Hellenic  drama  origi- 
nated in  rhythmic  song,  and  that  around  the 
choral  ode  should  gather  the  action  and  the 
interest  of  the  play.  His  chorus,  therefore,  act 
both  as  singers  and  as  interpreters  of  the  action, 
relieving  the  measured  tread  of  stately  tragedy 

Z04 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

with  pauses  of  musical  suspense.  Often,  also, 
they  break  into  the  dialogue,  and  act  as  medi- 
ators and  as  moralists. 

The  chorus  represent  the  populi  of  Heaven, 
and  voice  the  sentiments  of  the  many.  The 
interchange  of  thoughts  between  chorus  and 
chorus,  and  the  chorus  and  the  persons,  pro- 
duces variety.  To  this  the  swift  changes  of 
thought  and  emotion  also  contribute. 

Here,  also,  as  in  the  Greek  dramas,  we  observe 
the  proper  subordination  of  the  chorus  to  the 
protagonist  and  the  chief  characters,  and  of  the 
lyric  to  the  dramatic  elements,  while  through 
the  whole  play  the  length  of  the  speeches  is 
artfully  suited  to  the  character  and  the  situ- 
ation. Much,  too,  might  be  said  about  Von- 
del's  felicities  of  rime,  his  sweet  feminine  rimes, 
his  stately,  sonorous  hexameters,  his  trimeters 
and  tetrameters,  his  frequent  use  of  the  various 
classic  metres,  and  his  admirable  shifting  of  the 
caesura  to  suit  the  feeling  of  the  speaker. 

The  three  unities  are  here  also  carefully 
preserved,  which  perhaps  was  the  more  easily 
done  on  account  of  the  divinity  of  the  charac- 
ters, to  which  a  celerity  of  movement  was  nat- 
ural not  possible  to  mortals. 

Hence,  the  time  of  the  whole  drama  from  the 
inception  of  the  revolt  until  the  final  catastro- 
phe could  very  probably  be  included  in  twenty- 

205 


THE  "  LUCIFER :'» 

four  hours.  The  unity  of  action  we  have  al- 
ready spoken  of.  The  unity  of  place  is  equally 
well  kept.  The  "  Lucifer,"  hardly  two  thou- 
sand seven  hundred  lines,  including  the  cho- 
ruses, conforms  also  in  respect  to  length  to  the 
classic  standard. 

The  growth  of  the  play  is  no  less  wonderful 
than  the  characterization,  many  preparations 
and  conspiracies  developing  at  last  into  a  battle, 
many  scenes  into  a  definite  situation ;  the  num- 
berless changes  of  cause  and  effect  at  length 
resulting  in  a  plot  full  of  the  force  of  an  action- 
impelling  motive.  Thus  from  the  varied  com- 
plexities of  circumstance  and  situation  is  at  last 
evolved  the  one  controlling  purpose. 

A  fine  antithesis  to  the  turbulent  catastrophe 
is  the  quiet  climax,  Lucifer's  soliloquy  in  Act 
IV. ;  where,  however,  all  that  precedes  is  re- 
solved into  one  intense  situation.  The  advent 
of  Rafael  here,  furthermore,  is  an  unforeseen 
complication  to  heighten  the  interest. 

The  end,  by  suggestive  reminiscence  of  the 
fading  perspective  of  the  beginning,  unites  the 
commencement  with  the  close,  making  the 
drama  an  organic  whole,  whose  soul  is  purpose 
and  whose  heart  is  truth. 

The  exquisite  blending  of  the  action  with 
the  characters,  each  shaping  the  other,  has 
rarely  been  equalled.     It  is  the  characters,  after 

206 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

all,  that  are  the  chief  interest  and  that  control 
the  action.  We  see  here  the  strange  anomaly 
of  a  classic  play  where  the  individual  shapes 
the  action,  and  is  yet  conquered  by  law. 

Here,  where  the  will  of  a  god  clashes  with 
the  supreme  will  of  the  Supreme  God,  great  art 
is  necessary  to  sustain  human  interest — to  de- 
lay the  interposition  of  the  superior  deity  until 
the  very  close. 

The  primary  motive,  self-exaltation,  fails 
grandly ;  yet  in  its  failure  it  brings  into  partial 
fulfilment  the  secondary  motive,  the  fall  of 
man.  True,  the  logical  catastrophe  does  not 
occasion  surprise.  It  has  all  along,  as  in  every 
tragedy,  been  foreshadowed  by  circumstances 
big  with  fate.  Yet  Vondel  has  added  the  ele- 
ment of  surprise,  and  to  a  remarkable  degree, 
by  the  introduction  of  a  second  catastrophe, 
the  expulsion  of  Adam  from  Paradise,  the 
natural  result  of  the  first.  Thus  curiosity  and 
reason  only  end  with  the  play  itself.  One  by 
one,  too,  the  various  episodes  are  seen  to  spring 
from  the  action,  which,  moreover,  requires  no 
introduction  of  antecedent  circumstance  to  set 
it  in  motion. 

The  ensemble  scenes,  or  groups,  a  sure  test  of 
the  great  dramatist,  are  handled  in  a  masterly 
manner.  There  is  also  a  delightful  retardation 
which    heightens  the   suspense  and  delays  the 

207 


THE  "LUCIFER;'* 

catastrophe,  until,  like  an  electric  cloud,  it 
bursts  into  the  thunder  of  its  own  generating. 

Each  messenger,  in  the  play,  brings  vividly 
before  the  eye  of  the  spectator  the  conse- 
quential scene  which  he  himself  has  just  wit- 
nessed— of  which,  perhaps,  he  has  been  a 
part. 

Thus,  by  the  artful  use  of  motive-producing 
complications,  the  action,  once  projected,  moves 
on  to  its  end,  where  the  totality  of  figures, 
thoughts,  and  emotions  are  drawn  into  one 
maelstrom  of  ruin. 

There  is  no  distraction.  There  is  no  swerv- 
ing from  the  opening  to  the  catastrophe ;  from 
the  catastrophe  to  the  conclusion,  the  awful 
retribution. 

As  in  the  tragedy  of  life,  so,  too,  in  this.drama, 
the  innocent  suffer  through  the  punishment 
that  overtakes  the  guilty;  witness  the  sorrow 
of  Rafael  and  the  good  angels  at  the  fall  of 
their  fellows  ;  the  sin  of  Adam  and  Eve,  and 
the  doom  pronounced  upon  their  innocent 
descendants. 

The  truth  of  Vondel's  poetic  conception  is 
seen  in  the  fact  that  its  essential  elements  are 
coeval  with  man  and  coeternal  with  the  uni- 
verse. As  in  Sophocles,  we  hardly  know  which 
most  to  admire,  the  balanced  proportions  of  the 
play,  or  its  general  conception.     Here,  also,  we 

208 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

often,  in  a  single  sentence,  find  a  synthesis  of 
a  situation  or  a  character. 

Vondel,  moreover,  most  impressively  intro- 
duces into  the  ancient  Greek  form,  with  its 
suggestion  of  an  over-ruling  destiny,  the  mod- 
ern idea  of  free  will.  And  he  does  it  so  ad- 
mirably that  there  is  no  confusion.  Simple  in 
its  complexity,  splendid  in  its  largeness  of 
design,  grand  in  its  harmony,  magnificent  in  its 
whole  conception,  the  drama  sweeps  irresistibly 
through  the  whole  gamut  of  human  emotion. 

Such  epic  breadth  and  intense  lyric  concen- 
tration have  rarely  been  combined  in  one  poem. 
Such  a  drama  is,  indeed,  the  sum  of  all  the  arts  ! 

THE    CHARACTERIZATION. 

Vondel's  devils  are  no  devils,  until  the  last 
act,  when  they  act  no  more,  but  are  described. 
Then  truly  they  are  the  incarnations  of  Hell's 
deepest  deviltries,  and  are  as  splendid  in  their 
malignity  as  they  were  formerly  superb  in 
their  wickedness. 

The  sophistries  of  these  evil  spirits  are 
scarcely  inferior  to  those  in  "  Faust."  They  are 
the  meshes  of  a  gigantic  delusion  woven  by  the 
leaders  of  the  conspiracy  around  the  rank  and 
file  of  the  angels,  seducing  them  from  bliss  to 
doom. 

209 


THE  "LUCIFER:" 

Belzebub  is  the  cynic  of  the  play — a  com- 
pound of  lago  and  Mephistopheles.  This  dark 
contriver  of  hellish  plots  is  colossal  in  his  ma- 
lignity. He  is  the  first  in  Heaven  to  make  a 
prurient  suggestion.  He  is  more  fiend  than  his 
noble  superior.  Sleepless,  unrelenting,  resource- 
ful, alert,  he  conjures  motives  of  evil  even  from 
the  tender  beauty  of  the  primal  innocence.  He 
finds  the  gall  of  hate  even  in  the  sweet  flower 
of  Eden's  sinless  love.  His  is  the  deliberating 
intellect  necessary  for  the  Stadtholder's  coun- 
sellor ;  and  though  slowly  unfolding  the  many 
sides  of  his  malign  nature,  he  is,  we  feel,  evil 
from  the  beginning,  grandly  diabolical. 

Belial,  conscienceless  and  without  remorse,  is 
utterly  depraved  ;  a  vile  seducer,  the  genius  of 
deceit,  who  does  evil  for  its  own  sake ;  a  useful 
tool  to  serve  the  baser  purposes  of  the  chief 
devil.  Apollion  has  some  gleams  of  goodness 
in  his  nature,  but  is  weak,  lustful,  and  easily  in- 
fluenced by  the  hope  of  gain — a  type  of  the 
traitor.  All  of  the  devils,  and  they  are  the 
chief  characters  of  the  play,  may  be  supposed 
to  represent  the  different  phases  of  evil  ;  while 
the  good  angels,  whose  characteristics  have  been 
but  briefly  indicated,  show  the  different  attri- 
butes of  the  Deity. 

As  in  the  "  CEdipus  Tyrannus,"  "  the  country 
must  be    purged,"    so    here,  too,  the  Heavens 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

must  be  cleansed  of  "this  perjured  scum," — the 
rebellious  angels. 

We  must  now  proceed  to  speak  of  Lucifer : 
his  all-consuming  wrath,  his  ambition,  his  pride, 
and  infernal  energy.  These  traits  are  exhibited 
in  gigantic  outlines  even  before  his  fall.  After 
his  defeat,  what  can  be  more  impressive  than 
his  all-enduring  Archangelic  passion,  glorious  in 
its  all-defying  mood?  Not  his  the  wild  out- 
bursts nor  the  mad  ravings  of  Lear.  Every 
ebullition  of  his  anger  is  fraught  with  purpose, 
and  is  transmuted  into  revengeful  action.  Mind 
and  spirit  are,  after  all,  the  conquering  forces 
of  the  universe.  Material  circumstance  and 
physical  environment  cannot  thwart  their  de- 
sign. It  is  this  ennobling  consciousness  of 
intellectual  power,  supplemented  by  uncon- 
querable and  irresistible  will,  that  makes  the 
magnificence  of  the  personality  of  Lucifer. 
Like  Milton's  Satan,  he  is,  we  feel,  most  near  a 
god  when  he  is  most  a  devil. 

Lucifer,  like  Macbeth,  is  not  influenced  all  at 
once.  With  a  god-Iikc  circumspection,  he  first 
weighs  every  atom  of  probability.  However, 
when  the  die  is  cast  and  the  line  of  rebellion 
has  once  been  crossed,  he  fights  to  the  last  ditch. 

Lucifer  is  a  sublime  egoist — the  spirit  of 
negation  placed  against  the  limitations  of  the 
positive.     He  is  overpowering.     No  one,  even 


THE  ''LUCIFER:" 

for  an  instant,  dares  to  dispute  his  power,  not 
even  the  grand  Michael.  His  is  the  uncon- 
querable Batavian  heart.  He  dominates  the 
entire  action,  and  like  a  magnet  draws  all  the 
other  characters  around  him.  Though  jealousy 
of  man  is  the  animating  passion  of  the  lower 
devils  and  the  excuse  of  the  protagonist  him- 
self, yet  we  feel  that  he  uses  this  merely  as  a 
stalking  horse  for  his  overweening  ambition. 
Lucifer  would  become  God  himself.  It  is  an 
unwritten  law  of  great  tragedy  that  the  villain, 
though  a  villain,  must  be  admirable.  Lucifer, 
arch-villain  that  he  is,  is  superb  in  his  construc- 
tive villany — a  very  god  of  evil,  with  resources 
at  his  command  formidable  enough  to  make 
or  to  mar  a  world,  and  yet  resulting  only  in  his 
own  undoing.  Proud  in  the  consciousness  of 
godlike  powers,  he  thinks, 

"  I  have  a  bit  of  fiat  in  my  soul, 
And  can  myself  create  a  little  world." 

His  confidence,  however,  proves  to  be  but  the 
fiat  of  his  damnation. 

"There  is  no  fiercer  hell  than  the  failure  in  a 
great  undertaking."  Into  this  hell  Lucifer  was 
forever  thrust.  Yet  he  is  allowed  one  brief 
moment  of  happiness;  it  is  where  he  proclaims 
himself  a  god,  and  is  worshipped  by  his  fol- 
lowers. 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

Lucifer  is  the  prince  of  thinkers,  and  a 
monarch  among  actors.  His  is  the  intellect 
to  plan  and  to  conceive,  and  the  will  to  exe- 
cute ;  and  will  is  above  all  the  one  quality  em- 
phasized. As  much  as  he  is  in  this  respect 
supereminent,  so  much  greater  the  degree  of 
his  guilt.  Could  the  force  of  this  faculty  have 
been  better  shown  than  in  the  picture  of  the 
fallen  Archangel,  where,  in  the  agonies  of  tor- 
ture and  the  throes  of  expiation,  he  not  only 
deliberates,  resolves,  and  executes,  but  even 
exults,  as,  culling  the  bitter  sweetness  of  a 
hopeless  hope  from  the  hell-flower  of  despair, 
he  rejoices  in  the  fiendish  triumph  that  he 
knows  is  but  the  prelude  to  everlasting  doom? 
Unlike  the  unconquerable  and  torture-racked 
Prometheus,  he  allows  not  one  sigh  to  escape 
from  the  depths  of  his  anguish  ;  not  one  moan 
rises  from  his  abysmal  despair.  Malediction 
alone  can  unlock  his  implacable  lips.  From  even 
the  caverns  of  Hell  he  projects  his  evil  genius 
back  into  space  to  accomplish  a  predetermined 
revenge. 

Lucifer  reasons  with  Rafael  and  with 
Gabriel;  but  with  Michael  only  war  is  possible. 
The  two  chiefs  are  too  equal  in  power,  too 
proud,  and  too  warlike  to  waste  time  in  words. 
Each,  accustomed  to  command,  will  brook  no 
authority   in    the  other.     The  pathos    and  the 

213 


THE  "  LUCIFER ;'' 

tenderness  of  Rafael,  on  the  other  hand,  pre- 
sent a  strong  relief  to  the  sombre  passions  of 
Lucifer.  It  is  the  ethical  portraiture  of  this 
drama  that  is  its  most  powerful  feature. 

Lucifer,  also,  in  a  certain  sense,  represents  the 
ideal  Dutchman — combining  in  a  losing  struggle 
the  daring  of  Civilis  and  the  intellect  of  Eras- 
mus with  the  astuteness  and  magnanimity  of 
William  the  Silent — a  grand  hero  in  a  bad  cause  ! 
Lucifer  has  indeed  "  set  the  time  out  of  joint  " 
for  Adam's  seed  ;  yet  the  play  also  gives  prom- 
ise of  the  Christ  who  will  again  make  all  things 
right ;  there  is  here,  also,  a  suggestion  of  the 
"  Paradise  Regained." 

The  drama  is  ended;  the  thunders  have 
ceased  to  roll,  and  are  again  chained  to  the 
chariot  of  the  Deity;  the  lightnings  once  more 
slumber  in  the  bosom  of  the  night.  The  battle 
is  over,  the  air  is  again  pure  and  clear.  The  good 
has  been  exalted  ;  the  bad  has  been  debased. 
The  heart  of  the  spectator,  too,  has  been  the 
scene  of  the  battle  of  the  passions :  terror,  pity, 
hope,  despair,  love,  joy,  peace  have  each  alter- 
nated in  brief  possession.  The  katharsis  of  the 
soul  is  accomplished.  It  has  been  purified  of  all 
that  is  gross  and  earthly.  It  has  become  spirit- 
ualized. It  has  become  conscious  of  its  wings, 
thrilled  with  aspiration  for  the  ethereal  and 
for  the  stars  beyond. 

214 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

IS   THE   "LUCIFER"   A   POLITICAL  ALLEGORY? 

It  is  maintained  by  several  eminent  Dutch 
critics  that  the  "  Lucifer  "  is  a  poHtical  alle- 
gory like  the  "  Palamedes "  and  several  other 
tragedies  of  Vondel. 

Some  of  these  literati  have  displayed  consid- 
erable ingenuity  in  their  attempt  to  prove  that 
it  typifies  the  struggle  of  the  Netherlands 
against  Spain  ;  Orange  corresponding  to  Luci- 
fer, Philip  II.  to  God,  Alva  to  Michael,  the 
Cardinal  Granvelle  to  Adam. 

Many  of  the  situations  of  the  play  bear  out 
this  analogy.  Lucifer,  like  Orange,  was  the 
idol  of  his  followers.  Both  desire  to  change  a 
hated  tyranny  to  a  state  of  freedom.  Both 
speak  grandiloquently  of  a  charter  disannulled 
and  of  ancient  privileges  violated. 

The  simile  of  the  sea  dashing  in  vain  against 
the  rock  in  the  battle-scene  of  the  "Lucifer"  may 
be  supposed  to  illustrate  the  device  of  Orange : 
"  Scevis  tranqiiilliis  in  widish  The  crescent 
array  of  the  rebels  may  refer  to  the  shibboleth 
of  the  water-beggars:  "Rather  Turk  than 
Papist." 

The  lion  and  the  dragon  that  draw  the 
chariot  of  the  Archfiend  are  also  blazoned  upon 
the  crest  of  the  two  provinces,  Holland  and 
Zealand,    which    were  the  chief   supporters   of 

2IS 


THE  "LUCIFER:" 

Orange.  The  medley  of  seven  beasts  into 
which  Lucifer,  in  falHng,  was  changed,  may  be 
taken  to  represent  the  seven  Northern  prov- 
inces that  became  the  Dutch  RepubHc,  while 
the  Southern  provinces,  which  remained  loyal  to 
Spain,  nearly  two-thirds  of  the  whole  number, 
may  be  typified  by  the  faithful  angels. 

Lucifer  renewed  the  fight  three  times;  so  did 
Orange.  Both  pretended  to  fight  ^' pro  lege, 
rege,  et  grege!' 

In  that  age,  before  successful  revolutions  had 
established  a  precedent,  no  revolt  could  hope 
for  success  unless  by  conforming  to  the  maxim 
"the  king  can  do  no  wrong" — a  cardinal  prin- 
ciple in  every  religion  of  that  day.  By  this 
political  fiction  rebels  professed  to  fight  for  the 
king,  though  really  fighting  against  him.  Von- 
del  pictured  his  revolt  after  these  examples, 
the  most  prominent  of  which  was  the  revolt 
of  his  own  country  against  Philip  IL  Lucifer, 
however,  fell,  and  Orange  triumphed  ;  though 
the  assassination  of  the  latter  might  be  taken  as 
equivalent  to  a  fall.  Lucifer  accomplished  the 
fall  of  Adam,  even  as  Orange  brought  about  the 
expulsion  of  Granvelle.  Alva,  like  Michael,  fur- 
thermore, received  the  charge  "  to  burn  out 
with  a  glow  of  fire  and  zeal  "  the  polluting  stains 
of  heresy.  Egmont  and  Montigny,  like  Gabriel 
and  Rafael,  acted  as  ambassadors. 

216 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

The  cause  of  the  jealousy  of  the  Netherland- 
ers,  as  in  the  "  Lucifer,"  was  the  fact  that  greater 
privileges  were  accorded  to  foreigners  (the 
Spaniards)  than  to  the  hereditary  princes  of 
the  land.  As  in  the  drama  Gabriel's  proclama- 
tion is  followed  by  protest  and  rebellion,  so  in 
the  Netherlands  the  unjust  edicts  of  Philip  were 
the  primary  cause  of  revolt. 

It  was  the  sworn  duty  of  the  Stadtholder, 
William  of  Orange,  even  as  of  the  Stadtholder 
Lucifer,  to  maintain  the  laws  of  his  superior. 
Orange  also  held  a  position  similar  to  that  of 
Lucifer.  He  was  the  favorite  of  Charles  V., 
Stadtholder  of  Holland,  and  Knight  of  the 
Golden  Fleece.  Each  placed  himself  at  the 
head  of  the  disaffected  at  their  earnest  impor- 
tunity. Each  was  accused  of  ambition.  Each 
accomplished  his  designs  by  Machiavelian 
methods,  and  attained  a  brief  exaltation. 

Cardinal  Granvelle,  who  held  a  position  simi- 
lar to  Adam  in  the  drama,  was,  like  him,  of  low 
descent  ;  and  was  honored  with  greater  privi- 
leges than  even  the  nobles  themselves,  who 
hated  him  intensely.  The  opponents  of  the 
Cardinal  changed  the  liveries  of  their  servants 
into  motley  to  mock  him ;  so,  also,  we  hear 
Lucifer  say  to  his  minions  : 

"  Lay  off  your  morning  rays  and  wreaths  of  light." 

217 


THE  '' LUCIFER :'' 

The  nobles  complained  of  the  presence  of 
Spanish  troops  in  the  land  ;  so  the  Luciferians 
speak  of  "Adam's  life-guard,  many  thousand 
strong."  The  arguments  of  the  drama  were  also 
the  arguments  advanced  by  the  several  parties 
in  the  Dutch  revolt. 

The  three  hierarchies  of  Heaven  in  the  "  Lu- 
cifer "  correspond  to  Margaret's  three  Councils 
of  State.  Lucifer,  though  described  as  nighest 
to  God,  belonged  only  to  the  third  rank  of  the 
hierarchies;  just  as  Orange,  though  first  among 
the  Dutch  noblemen,  and  next  to  Philip  n.,was 
yet  subject  to  the  State  as  Stadtholder. 

Brederode,  as  the  head  of  the  aristocrats  who 
went  with  supplications  to  Margaret  of  Parma, 
bears  a  close  analogy  to  Belzebub,  where  the 
latter  says  to  the  Luciferians, 

"  With  prayers  ye  first  and  best  might  gain  your  end," 

and  where,  too,  he  expresses  his  willingness  to 
act  as  mediator.  In  this  scheme,  furthermore, 
Apollion  would  represent  Louis  of  Nassau,  and 
Belial,  Marnix  St.  Aldegonde. 

Others  see  in  the  drama  the  career  of  the 
great  Wallenstein,  the  ambitious  Generalissimo 
of  the  Thirty  Years'  War.  In  his  envy  of  the 
son  of  his  emperor,  and  in  his  desire  to  place 
the  crown    of   Hungary   on   his  own   head,  an 

2l3 


AN  INTERPRETATION. 

analog}'  is  suggested  to  Lucifer's  attitude  to 
Adam.  Even  as  the  celestial  rebels  swore  their 
chief  allegiance,  so,  too,  his  generals,  after  the 
reverse  of  Pilsen,  when  his  enemies  wished  to 
deprive  him  of  his  command,  swore  him  faith 
and  fealty. 

Vondel,  it  is  asserted,  v.as  conscious  of  this 
when  he  dedicated  this  drama  to  Ferdinand  the 
Third,  Emperor  of  Austria,  who  was  no  other 
than  the  intended  King  of  Hungary  w'ho  had 
aroused  the  envy  of  Wallenstein,  and  whose 
succession  to  the  crown  had  been  so  much 
endangered  by  the  lattcr's  treachery. 

But  there  is  yet  another  view^  of  the  subject, 
which  has  even  more  show  of  probability  than 
either  of  the  others.  It  is  supposed  by  many  that 
the  "  Lucifer"  was  intended  to  represent  the 
English  Rebellion  of  1648.  Lucifer  in  this  anal- 
ogy is  supposed  to  represent  Cromwell,  whom 
Vondel  hated  so  bitterly  and  against  whom  he 
thundered  such  tremendous  invective.  Indeed, 
there  are  some  external  circumstances  in  sup- 
port of  this  theory.  Speaking  of  his  lampoons 
on  the  great  English  rebel,  the  poet  says  that 
they  were  written  the  same  year  that  he 
"  taught  Lucifer  his  role  to  play."  He  also  says 
elsewhere  that  the  "  Lucifer  "  was  presented, 

"Forsooth,  as  edifying  lore, 
Wherein  proud  England  hath  much  store." 
219 


THE  "  LUCIFER  :•» 

If  the  last  supposition  be  true,  the  drama  is 
remarkable  as  prophesying  the  fall  of  the  Com- 
monwealth, and  the  Restoration.  It  would  then, 
moreover,  not  be  uninteresting  to  compare  it 
with  Dryden's  "  Absalom  and  Achitophel,"  in 
which  Oliver  Cromwell  is  also  one  of  the  chief 
characters. 

THE  INTERPRETATION. 

Yet  we  cannot  believe  that  the  "Lucifer"  is 
a  political  allegory.  Vondel  was  no  more  the 
poet  of  the  "  Palamedes."  Those  thirty  years 
had  wonderfully  developed  his  art.  Nor  is  it  an 
idyllic  allegory  like  the  "  Comus;  "  but,  like  the 
"  Divina  Commedia,"  an  allegory  of  the  world. 
Yet  behind  the  characters  of  the  sacred  legend 
we  may  also  see  the  national  heroes,  Siegfried, 
Beowulf,  Civilis,  Orange. 

The  "  Lucifer"  represents  the  gigantic  and 
eternal  battle  of  evil  with  good,  with  the  uni- 
verse as  the  battle-field — a  type  of  the  unending 
conflict  in  which  the  good  finally  conquers.  We 
see  here  the  Oriental  imagination  curbed  by  the 
reason  of  the  Occident — the  cold,  statuesque 
Greek  form  aglow  with  the  blazing  Hebrew 
soul.  The  flaming  Seraph  of  Christianity,  winged 
with  truth  and  armed  with  the  lightning  sword 
of   Jehovah   and  the  blasting  thunderbolts   of 


AN   INTERPRETATION. 

Jupiter,  sweeps  triumphant  through  the  whole 
drama.     Right  prevails;  wrong  is  overthrown. 

The  "  Lucifer"  is  a  theory  of  existence,  a 
scheme  of  the  universe.  It  is  the  revolt  of  the 
aspiring  ideal  against  the  invincible  actual. 
It  is  the  material  against  the  spiritual ;  the 
unknown  rendered  comprehensible  by  the  sym- 
bolism of  the  known. 

"  From  shadowy  types  to  truth  ;  from  flesh  to  spirit  " 

— this  is  the  order  of  its  progression. 

It  is  the  revolution  of  the  speculative  against 
the  rule  of  dogma ;  an  impassioned  contempla- 
tion of  life,  in  which  the  whole  gamut  of  human 
feelings  is  harmoniously  sounded ;  in  which 
every  link  in  the  chain  of  causation  is  struck 
into  the  music  of  its  meaning;  in  which  the 
past  and  the  future  are  mirrored  in  the  present. 

It  is  the  struggle  of  a  soul  against  the  un- 
changeable environment  of  fate  ;  the  drama  of 
the  collective  human  soul  aspiring  from  a  chaos 
of  unrest  to  the  unattainable  peace  of  absolute 
truth. 

Furthermore,  the  tragedy  typifies  the  charac- 
ter of  the  Hollanders  themselves  ;  a  people  who, 
as  Charles  V.  once  remarked,  made  "  the  best  of 
subjects,  but  the  worst  of  slaves  ;  "  a  nation  that 
has  ever  been  in  revolt,  not  only  against  man, 


THE  "LUCIFER;'* 

but  even  against  the  sublime  forces  of  nature; 
a  race  that  has  never  known  defeat. 

The  Batavians,  who  under  Claudius  Civilis 
carried  on  a  successful  rebellion  against  the  all- 
conquering  eagles  of  Rome — the  only  Germans 
who  never  bowed  beneath  the  Latin  yoke — 
and  their  Saxon  descendants,  who  were  the 
strongest  foes  of  the  territorial  aggressions  of 
Charlemagne,  were  all  flamed  with  the  same 
unconquerable  spirit.  It  was  this  spirit,  too, 
that  enabled  the  Hollanders  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  after  more  than  eighty  years  of  terrible 
conflict,  to  free  themselves  alike  from  the  grind- 
ing oppression  of  Spain  and  the  still  more 
oppressive  coils  of  religious  tyranny. 

The  Dutch  struggle  itself  was  a  terrific  drama, 
of  which  William  the  Silent  was  the  protago- 
nist, and  liberty  the  one  controlling  purpose  that 
animated  every  character,  that  impelled  every 
action.  It  was  the  details,  the  reasons,  the  ar- 
guments, and  the  conditions  of  this  stupendous 
struggle  that  were  before  the  poet's  mind  when 
he  wrote  this  tragedy. 

The  "  Lucifer,"  though  a  symbolic  sketch  of 
the  age  which  preceded  it,  is  essentially  a  drama 
embodying  the  spirit  of  the  time  in  which  it 
was  created.  It  is  a  reflex  of  the  life  of  that 
epoch,  the  embodiment  of  the  soul  conscious- 
ness of  the  "  storm  and  stress  "  period  of  Von- 


AN   INTERPRETATION. 

del's  own  life.  He  himself  was  in  perpetual 
revolt  against  the  universal  practices  of  his  age. 

Is  it  a  wonder  that  men,  seeing  in  it  not  only 
a  picture  of  themselves,  but  also  of  their  time, 
were  at  once  attracted  by  its  significance? 

The  Titanic  imagination  of  the  "Nibelungen" 
and  the  tremendous  imagery  of  "Beowulf" 
were  both  the  inevitable  expression  of  the 
tumultuous  soul  of  the  Teuton,  conscious  of 
a  great  destiny.  This  was  in  the  dawn  of  the 
nation's  childhood. 

We  next  view  the  race  in  the  pride  of  its 
glorious  youth,  rousing  itself,  after  the  sleep 
of  centuries,  to  gigantic  action.  From  that 
age  sprang  the  "  Lucifer." 

We  then  see  it  in  the  maturity  of  noble,  reflect- 
ing manhood,  whose  years  have  given  dignity  and 
strength.  "  Faust  "  stands  before  us  as  its  full 
expression.  And  Vondel  and  Goethe  are  each 
the  "  Seeing  Eye  "  that  pierced  the  hidden  mys- 
tery of  his  time.  Each  in  his  own  way  solved 
the  world  riddle. 

Like  "Faust,"  the  "  Lucifer  "  is  "ever  more 
a  striving  towards  the  highest  existence."  True, 
the  striving  hero  has  here  been  hurled  to  the 
depths  of  the  lowest  abyss;  yet  is  not  his  motive 
also  the  animating  spirit  of  the  race,  ever  on- 
ward and  upward  towards  the  unattainable? 

Like  the  defeated  Lucifer  in  Hell,  the  Teuton 

2J3 


THE  ''LUCIFER.'^ 

is  ever  evolving  courage  for  a  new  attempt, 
fired  with  the  hope  that  never  despairs. 

"  Siegfried,"  "  Beowulf,"  and  "  Lucifer,"  all 
typify  the  Anglo-Saxon  spirit  of  revolt,  that 
love  of  freedom  and  that  strong  individualism 
which  has  always  been  the  distinguishing  charac- 
teristic of  the  Low  Germans. 

Of  the  "  Lucifer,"  therefore,  it  may  truly  be 
said,  it  is  the  biography  of  a  national  soul. 

Translator. 


224 


f 


f 


Bibliograpby  of  Uondelian  Eiterature. 

JOOST  VAN  DEN  VONDEL,  SEIN  LEBEN  UND  SEINE 
WERKE.  Von  A.  Baumgartner,  S.  J.  Freiburg-im- 
Breisgau,  1882.  Pages  344-347,  synopsis  of  Vondel's 
works. 

Bibliography  of  Vondel's  Works.  J.  H.  W.  lin- 
ger. Amsterdam,  1888  (Frederic  MuUer  &  Co.).  All 
editions  of  the  "  Lucifer"  are  here  mentioned.  This  vol- 
ume is  in  the  library  of  Columbia  University. 

For  the  student  we  would  recommend  the  excellent 
little  edition  of  the  "Lucifer"  edited  by  N.  A.  Cramer 
(1891).  Price  40  cents.  Publisher,  W.  E.  J.  Tjeenk  Wil- 
link,  Zwolle,  Holland. 

Biography  of  Vondel.  By  Brandt.  \V.  E.  J. 
Tjeenk  Willink,  Zwolle. 

Biography  of  Vondel.  By  Dr.  G.  Kalff.  W.  E.  J. 
Tjeenk  Willink,  Zwolle. 

We  also  heartily  recommend  the  following  studies  by 
Dr.  Kalff :  "The  Literature  and  Drama  of  Amsterdam 
during  the  Seventeenth  Century  ;"  "  The  Sources  of  Von- 
del's Works,"  in  vol.  xii.  of  Oud  Holland  (magazine)  ; 
"Vondel  as  Translator,"  in  Tydschrift  (magazine)  Voor 
Nederlandsche  Taal  en  Letterkunde  (1894);  "  Von- 
del's Self-Criticism,"  same  magazine  (1895)  ;  "Origin  and 
Growth  of  Vondel's  Poems,"  same  magazine  (1896). 

Vondel  and  Milton.     August  Muller.     1864. 

Uber  Milton's  Abhanoigkeit  von  Vondel.  Ber- 
lin, 1 891. 

227 


^ 


BIBLIOGRAPHY. 

Milton  and  Vondel  :  A  Curiosity  of  Literature. 
George  Edmundson,  ALA.    Triibner  &  Co.,  London,  1885. 

Vondel  and  Milton.  Edmund  W.  Gosse.  "North- 
ern Studies."  Also  in  "  Littell's  Living  Age,"  vol.  cxxxiii., 
page  500 ;  and  in  the  "  Academy,"  vol.  xxxviii.,  page  613. 

David  Haek  (1854).  JUSTUS  voN  DEN  Vondel  :  ein 
betrag  zur  geschichte  des  Niederlandischen  schriftthums. 
Hamburg,  1890. 

Works  of  Vondel,  twelve  volumes,  in  association 
with  his  life,  by  Jacob  van  Lennep. 

Vondel's  Lucifer.  Agnes  Repplier.  "Catholic 
World,"  vol.  xlii.,  page  959. 


22S 


Parallelisms 
Between  Uondel  and  IHilton. 

Since  Mr.  Edmundson's  book  is  out  of  print,  we  have 
been  asked  to  give  a  list  of  his  parallelisms  between  the 
"Lucifer"  and  Milton.  This  will  give  the  student  the 
benefit  of  his  comparisons. 


Lucifer 

,  Act  I. 

Para 

DiSE  Lost 

Line 

13  . 

.     Book  III.,      line  741. 

(f 

22  . 

1  f 

•                 • 

jv.,       . 
Ui., 

'    266-272 
'    1012. 

it 

35  . 

•                 • 

v.,       ' 

'   426. 

i< 

52  . 

(1 
•                  • 

(VIIl.,    ' 

Ix..       • 

'    107. 
'     85. 

«« 

57  . 

(( 

11.. 

'    104-105 

*f 

61  . 

(( 

IV., 

'    227. 

i( 

63  .        . 

It 

•                • 

IV.,        ' 

'    233. 

It 

64.        . 

11 

•                 • 

III.. 

'    554. 

If 

73  . 

(( 

IV.,       ' 

'    225. 

it 

78  .         . 

tt 

•                 • 

VII..      ■ 
fVII.,      ' 
]  VIL,      ' 
(  IV.,       • 

'    577- 
*    3^7.      . 

tt 

85-95        . 

tt 

•    333- 

'    644. 

tt 

107  . 

tt 

IV.. 
(V.,        ' 

'    340. 
7. 

<i 

115  . 

tt 

IV.,      . 
(IV.,       • 

'    642. 
'    238. 

229 


PARALLELISMS. 


f 


Lucifer,  Act  L- 

-Continued. 

Paradise  Lost 

Line  131   . 

.   Boo 

Mix.. 

line 

:  360-365 

457- 

"     134  . 

It 

•         •         ■ 

VIL. 

tt 

505-511 

"     158  . 

•         •         • 

(V.. 
1  IV.. 

ft 

tt 

^37- 
689. 

"     174  . 

tt 

•         •         • 

(  IV.. 

Uv.. 

tt 

288-306 
496. 

"     180  . 

a 

IX.. 

tt 

450-460. 

"     192  . 

it 

■                •                • 

IX.. 

1 1 

489. 

"     193-195 

it 

IX.. 

tt 

460-470 

"     199  • 

It 

IV.. 

tt 

304-306 

"     203  . 

It 

VIII. 

It 

40-50. 

"     260  . 

tt 

IIL, 

tt 

276-290 

"     268  . 

It 

•                *                • 

(  IIL. 
1  III.. 

tt 

313-317 
323-333 

"     280  . 

11 
•                ♦                • 

v., 

1 1 

602. 

"     326  . 

tt 

*                •                • 

v.. 

tt 

429. 

"     330  . 

It 
•                •                • 

X., 

1 1 

660-670 

"     364  . 

tt 
■                •                • 

III., 

t( 

382. 

Lucifer,  Act  IL 

Paradise  Lost 

Line    22  , 

.     Book  v.. 

line 

787-792. 

••     108  . 

I 

f  ( 
( i 

94-98. 
106-11 I 

110  . 


118 


•♦    176-180 


Paradise  Regained. 
Book  III.,  line  201-211. 

Paradise  Lost. 

Book  I..        line  261-263. 

f  III..        "    380-382. 

VIII..     "      65-67. 

MIL,    "      71-75. 

[VIII.,    "     168-170. 


230 


PARALLELISMS. 


Lucifer,  Act  II. 
Line  197  . 

"    343  . 
"     367  . 

"   yii  . 

"    405  . 


■  Continued.  Paradise  Lost. 

.    Book   v.,    line     810-825. 


Lucifer 

,  Act  III 

Line 

120  . 

<( 

238  . 

i( 

572  . 

Lucifer 

,  Act  IV 

Line 

10  . 

it 

43  • 

tt 

120-155 

it 

186  . 

tt 

207  . 

it 

251  . 

n 

258  . 

** 

351  . 

tt 

370  . 

tt 

410  . 

"   421  . 

Lucifer,  Act  V. 
Line      3  . 
"        4  . 

7  . 

8  . 


IV..     ' 

'  1010-1012 

11.,  ' 

188-191 

11..  • 

130-132 

n.,    ' 

343-346 

.v..    • 

'     254. 

n..    ' 

110-112 

I.,     ' 

490. 

Paradise  Lost. 
Book  X.,       line  1045. 
"      v.,         "    617-627. 
"     v.,         "    708-710. 

Paradise  Lost. 
Book  v.,       line  708-710. 


"     VI., 

"      56-59- 

"    v.. 

"    772-802 

"    III., 

•'    383-389 

"    III., 

"    648. 

"     IV., 

"    393- 

"  II.. 

"    188-194 

"      IV., 

"    391-394 

Paradise  Regained 

Book  IV., 

line  518-520 

"     III., 

"    204. 

Paradise  Lost 

Book  VI., 

line  540. 

Paradise  Lost 

Book  VI.. 

line  200-206 

"     VI., 

"    305. 

*•      VI., 

"    320-323 

"      VI., 

"    250  253 

231 


PARALLELISMS. 


Lucifer 

,  Act  v.— Con 

tinned.               Paradise  Lost. 

Line 

29  . 

.     Book  IV.. 

line 

556-557- 

43  . 

"     VI., 

44-53- 

54  . 

"     VI., 

61-63. 

65  .        . 

.         .         "     VI., 

85-87. 

70  . 

"     IV., 

977-980. 

85-88     . 

"     I., 

533-540. 

94-100   . 

"      VI., 

99-110. 

97  . 

.        .         "     XL, 

240-241. 

lOI    . 

"     VI.. 

754-755- 

103  . 

"     VI., 

848-849. 

105  . 

.     .     "   I., 

286. 

Ill  . 

..  \  L, 

■     ■        h.. 

84-87. 

588-590. 

114  . 

.       .       "    v.. 

833-845. 

115  . 

-,  \  VI.. 

•      •        Wi., 

68-71. 
105-107. 

124  . 

.,1   VL, 
•        •           (  VI., 

203-219. 

546. 

1 

128  . 

"      VI., 

310-315- 

'" 

Paradise  Regained. 

it 

155-161   . 

.     Book  IV., 

line 

18-25. 

Paradise  Lost. 

164  .       . 

.    Book  VI., 

line 

200-205. 

195  .       . 

"    IV., 

1000. 

235  ■       . 

"    VI., 

246-255. 

255  .       . 

"    VI., 

275-278, 

269  . 

"    VI., 

324. 

275  .       . 

"    VI., 

390- 

290  . 

"     L, 

305- 

308  .       . 

,.  \  X.. 

Ix.. 

449-454. 
511-529. 

232 


Lucifer,  Act  V. 
Line  320  . 
"     328  . 
"     345  . 


PARALLELISMS. 

—  Continued. 


Paradise  Lost. 
Book  X.,         line  510-520. 

"     X.  "     539-545- 

"     X.,  "     510-520. 


347 


Paradise  Regained. 
Book  IV.,     line   423. 


353 
410 

412 


Paradise  Lost. 

Book  VI.,     line    884-886. 

I.,       "      300-310. 

"     X..     "    538-545. 


Paradise  Regained. 

"  416  .     . 

.     Book     I. 

,     line 

39-42. 

] 

Paradise  Lost. 

"  417  .    . 

.     Book  I., 

line 

192-195. 

"   419  •     . 

.         .         "     II., 

1-5- 

"   426  .     . 

■  •   iJ: 

120-122. 

178-189. 

"  431  .     . 

..in., 
liii. 

362-375. 

90-96. 

"     433  .       . 

.        .         "    IX.. 

130-134. 

"    455  .       . 

"     X., 

637. 

"    448  .       . 

"     XI. 

500-513. 

"     457  .       . 

"    I., 

1>(^1-31?>. 

"     461  . 

"     L, 

381-390. 

"     488  .       . 

.         .         "     IX. 

575-581. 

"     492  .       . 

"     IX. 

716-732. 

"     494  .       . 

.        .         "     IX., 

685-687. 

"     499  .       . 

"     IX., 

679-683. 

"     500  . 

"     IX., 

732-743. 

233 


PARALLELISMS. 


Lucifer,  Act  V 
Line  509  . 

'     519  • 

'     537-545 
'     553  • 
•     560  . 

'  564  . 

'  604  . 

'  604  . 

'  606  . 

'  616-627 


■  Continued.  Paradise  Lost. 

Book  IX.,   line  1090-1095. 
.,  j  IX..      •'       780-783. 
( IX.,      "   1000-1003. 
"     Last  of  Book  IX. 
"     X.,    line  1051-1055. 


X.. 

"   498-499 

XII., 

"   386. 

IL, 

"   595-600 

L. 

"    56-63. 

X., 

112. 

Suggestion  of  Paradise  Regained. 


Note. — (i)  The  -vior A  feather^  line  370,  Act  I.,  is  here  used  by  Vondel 
in  the  old  sense  ai  pen. 

(2)  The  word  treason  in  the  epode  of  the  chorus  of  angels  at  the  end 
of  Act  III.  more  literally  means  treasonable  ambition. 


834 


**  Praccipitcmque  immani  turbine  adegit'* 


3.  van  bonders 

Euclfer 


E  tragedy 

1654 


to  tbe  Invincible  Prince  ana  Cord, 
tbe  Cord  Terdinand  the  Cbird, 
elected  emperor  of  Rome,  Per- 
petual Tncreaser  of  tbe  Empire. 

S  the  Divine  Majesty  is  throned  amid 
unapproachable  splendors,  so,  too,  the 
Sovran  Powers  of  the  world,  which 
owe  their  lustre  to  God,  and  arc 
made  in  the  image  of  the  Godhead,  are  seated  on 
high,  crowned  with  glory.  But  as  the  Godhead, 
or,  rather,  the  Supreme  Goodness,  favors  the  least 
and  most  humble  with  access  to  His  throne,  so, 
too,  doth  the  temporal  power  deem  its  most  in- 
significant subject  worthy  to  kneel  reverentially  at 
its  feet. 

Inspired  with  this  hope,  my  muse  is  encouraged 

239 


1 


VONDEL'S 

from  afar  to  dedicate  to  your  Imperial  Majesty  this 
Tra§:edy  of  Lucifer,  whose  style  demands  a  most 
liberal  degree  of  that  gravity  and  stateliness  of 
which  the  poet  speaks : 

"  Omne  genus  script!  gravitate  Tragoedia  vincit." 

"  Sublime  in  style  and  deep  in  tone, 
The  tragic  art  doth  stand  alone." 

Though  whatever  of  the  requisite  sublimity  may 
be  wanting  in  the  style  will  be  compensated  by  the 
subject  of  the  drama,  and  the  title,  name,  and  emi- 
nence of  the  personage  who,  the  mirror  of  all 
ungrateful  and  ambitious  ones,  doth  here  invest 
the  tragic  scene,  the  Heavens ;  from  which  he, 
who  once  presumed  to  sit  by  the  side  of  God,  and 
thought  to  become  His  equal,  was  cast,  and  justly 
condemned  to  eternal  darkness* 

This  unhappy  example  of  Lucifer,  the  Arch- 
angel, and  at  one  time  the  most  glorious  of  all  the 
Angels,  has  since  been  followed,  through  nearly 
all  the  centuries,  by  various  rebellious  usurpers,  of 
which  both  ancient  and  modern  histories  bear  wit- 
ness, showing  how  violence,  cunning,  and  the  wily 
plots  of  the  wicked,  disguised  beneath  a  show  and 

pretext  of   lawfulness,   are  idle  and  powerless  so 

240 


DEDICATION. 

longf  as  God's  Providence  protects  the  anointed 
Powers  and  Dynasties,  to  the  peace  and  safety  of 
divers  states,  which,  without  a  lawful  supreme 
head,  could  not  exist  in  civil  intercourse.  There- 
fore, God's  Oracle  Himself,  for  the  good  of  man- 
kind, by  one  word  identified  the  Sovran  Power 
as  His  own,  when  He  commanded  that  to  God 
and  to  Caesar  should  be  rendered  the  things  that 
to  each  were  due. 

Christendom,  so  often  attacked  on  every  side, 
and  at  present  beset  by  Turk  and  Tartar,  like 
unto  a  ship  on  a  stormy  sea,  in  danger  of  ship- 
wreck, demands  to  the  highest  degree  this  univer- 
sal reverence  for  the  Empire,  that  thereby  the 
hereditary  foe  of  Christ's  name  may  be  repulsed, 
and  that  the  Realm  and  its  frontiers  may  be 
strengthened  and  rendered  safe  against  the  incur- 
sions of  his  savage  hordes ;  wherefore  it  behooves 
us  to  praise  God  that  it  pleased  Him  to  continue 
the  Authority  and  the  Crown  of  the  Holy  Roman 
Empire,  at  the  last  Imperial  Diet,  before  his 
father's  death,  in  the  son,  Ferdinand  the  Fourth, 
a  blessing  which  has  filled  so  many  nations  with 
courage,  and  which  causes  the  tragic  trumpet  of 
our  Netherland  Muse  to  sound  more  boldly  before 

the  throne  of  the  High  Germans  concerning  the 

241 


DEDICATION. 

vanquished    Lucifer,  borne    along    in    Michael's 

triumph. 

Your  Imperial  Majesty's 

Most  humble  servant, 

J.  V.  VONDEL, 


Jhfc^^. 


242 


On  m  Portrait  of  Bis  Imperial 
majesty,  Terdinana  the  Cbira. 


When  Joachim  Sandrart  van  Stokou,  out  of  Vienna, 
in  Austria,  honored  me  with  his  Majesty's  portrait, 
adorned  with  festoons  and  other  ornaments. 

Deiis  nobis  haec  otia  fecit. 

HE  Sun  of  Austria  uplifts  his  glorious 
fays 
From  shadow-glooms  of  art  to  bless 

each  wondering  eye. 
Behold    him    on    his    throne,    high 
towering  in  the  sky ! 
Nor  doth  he  scorn  to  beam  on  all  his  glance  sur- 


veys. 


243 


ON  HIS  MAJESTY^S  PORTRAIT. 

Good  Ferdinand  the  Third,  born  for  the  sovran 
crown, 
A  Father  of  the  Peace,  a  new  Augustus,  shows 
His  Son  the  heights  whereon  the  heavenly  pal- 
ace glows; 
And  teaches  how  with  arms  of  Peace  to  win  re- 
nown. 

How  blest  the  mighty  realm,  how  blest  their  des- 
tinies, 
Cer  which  his  gracious  eyes  keep  sleepless  vigils 

kind. 
And  where  he  holds  the  Scales  for  holy  Justice 
blind  ! 
An  Eagle  brought   him  sword  and  sceptre  from 
the  skies. 

A  crown  adorns  the  head  which  empires    grand 

engage : 
This    Head    adorns    the    Crown,   and    makes    a 

golden  age. 


244 


n  (Uord  to  Jin 

Tellcw-JIcademlcians  and  Patrons  of 
tbe  Drama. 

O  reenklndle  your  zeal  for  art,  and  at 
the  same  time  to  edify  and  to  quicken 
your   spirit,  the    holy   trag^ic    scene, 
which  represents  the  Heavens,  is  here 
presented  to  your  view. 

The  great  Archangels,  Lucifer  and  Michael, 
each  strengthened  by  his  followers,  come  on  the 
stage,  and  play  their  parts. 

The  stage  and  the  actors  are,  in  sooth,  of  such 
nature,  and  so  glorious,  that  they  demand  a 
grander  style  and  higher  buskins  than  I  know  how 

245 


VONDEL'S 

to  put  on.  No  one  who  understands  the  speech 
of  the  infallible  oracles  of  the  Holy  Spirit  will 
judge  that  we  present  here  the  story  of  Sal- 
moneus,  who^  in  Elis^  mounted  upon  his 
chariot,  while  defying;  Jupiter,  and  imitating; 
his  thunder  and  lightning;  by  riding;  over  a 
brazen  bridg;e,  holding;  a  burning;  torch,  was 
slain  by  a  thunderbolt. 

Nor  do  we  renew  here  the  g;rey  fable  of  the  war 
of  the  Titans,  in  which  disguise  Poesy  sought  to 
make  its  auditors  forget  their  reckless  presumption 
and  godless  sacrilege,  and  to  acquire  a  knowledge 
of  nature  instead;  namely,  that  the  air  and  the 
winds,  locked  within  the  hollow  belly  and  the 
sulphurous  bowels  of  the  earth,  seeking,  at  times, 
an  outlet,  accompanied  by  the  violence  of  bursting 
rocks,  and  by  smoke  and  steam  and  flames  and 
earthquakes  and  dreadful  mutterings,  are  vomited, 
and,  rising  heavenwards,  again  descend,  strewing 
and  heaping  the  surface  of  land  and  sea  with 
stones  and  ashes* 

Among  the  Prophets,  Isaiah  and  Ezekiel  assure 
us  of  the  fall  of  the  Archangel  and  his  faction* 
In  the  Evangelist,  Christ,  truest  of  all  oracles,  with 
His  voice,  out  of  the  Heavens,  enjoins  us  to  hear ; 

and  finally,  Judas  Thaddeus,  His  faithful  apostle } 

246 


FOREWORD. 

which  parables  are  worthy  to  be  eng;raved  in 
eternal  diamond,  and,  more  worthy  still,  upon  our 
hearis* 

Isaiah  cries:  "  How  art  thou  fallen  from  Heaven, 

0  Lucifer,  who  didst  rise  in  the  momingf!  How 
art  thou  fallen  to  the  earth,  that  didst  wound  the 
nations ! 

"  And  thou  saidst  in  thy  heart,  I  will  ascend  to 
Heaven,  I  will  exalt  my  throne  above  the  stars  of 
God.  I  will  sit  in  the  mountain  of  the  covenant, 
in  the  sides  of  the  north  : 

**  I  will  ascend  above  the  height  of  the  clouds. 

1  will  be  like  the  Most  High. 

**  But  yet  thou  shalt  be  brought  down  to  hell, 
into  the  depth  of  the  pit.^ 

God  speaks  through  Ezekiel  thus :  "  Thou  wast 
the  seal  of  resemblance,  full  of  wisdom,  perfect  in 
beauty.  Thou  wast  in  the  pleasures  of  the  para- 
dise of  God ;  every  precious  stone  was  thy  cover- 
ing, the  sardius,  the  topaz,  and  the  jasper,  the 
chrysolite  and  the  onyx  and  the  beryl,  the  sap- 
phire and  the  carbuncle  and  the  emerald ;  gold 
was  thy  adornment.  Thy  pipes  were  prepared 
in  the  day  thou  wast  created.  Thou  didst  spread 
thyself  like  an  overshadowing  cherub,  and  I  set 
thee  on  the  mountain  of  God.    Thou  didst  walk 

247 


VONDEL'S 

in  the  midst  of  the  stones  of  fire.  Thou  wast  per- 
fect in  thy  ways  from  the  day  of  thy  creation, 
until  iniquity  was  found  in  thee/^ 

Both  of  these  parables  are  spoken,  the  one  of 
the  King  of  Babylon,  the  other  of  the  King  of 
Tyre,  who,  like  unto  Lucifer  in  pride  and  in  splen- 
dor, were  threatened  and  punished. 

Jesus  Christ  refers  to  the  fall  of  the  rebellious 
Lucifer,  where  he  says :  **  I  saw  Satan  like  light- 
ning falling  from  Heaven.'^ 

And  Thaddeus  reveals  the  fall  of  the  Angels 
and  their  crime,  and  the  punishments  which  fol- 
lowed thereon,  without  any  palliation,  briefly,  in 
this  manner :  **  And  the  Angels  who  kept  not 
their  principality,  but  forsook  their  own  habita- 
tion, he  hath  reserved  with  everlasting  chains 
of  darkness  unto  the  judgment  of  the  great 
God.'' 

Stayed  by  these  golden  sayings,  and  in  particu- 
lar by  that  of  Judas  Thaddeus,  disciple  of  the 
Heavenly  Teacher  and  Ambassador  from  the 
King  of  kings,  we  receive,  as  upon  a  shield  of 
adamant,  the  darts  of  the  unbelieving  who  would 
dare  to  cast  a  doubt  upon  the  fall  of  the  Angels. 

Besides  this,  we  are  strongly  supported  through- 
out the  whole   period  of  antiquity  by  the  most 

248 


FOREWORD. 

illustrious  of  the  devout  Church  Fathers,  who,  in 
respect  to  the  plot  of  this  history,  are  unanimously 
ag;reed :  thoug^h,  lest  we  detain  our  Academic 
friends,  we  shall  be  content  to  cite  only  three 
places,  the  first  taken  out  of  the  holy  Cyprian, 
Bishop  and  martyr  at  Carthage,  where  he  writes : 
**  When  he  who  was  formerly  throned  in  ang-elic 
majesty  and  accounted  worthy  by  God  and  pleas- 
ing in  his  sight,  saw  man,  made  in  God's  own 
image,  he  burst  into  malicious  hate ;  not,  however, 
causing  him  to  fall  by  poisoning  him  with  this 
hatred,  ere  he  himself  was  thereby  also  undone — 
himself  made  captive  ere  he  captured,  and  ruined 
ere  he  brought  him  to  ruin.  While  he,  spurred  on 
by  envy,  robbed  man  of  the  grace  of  immortality 
once  given  him,  he  himself  also  lost  all  that  he 
had  before  possessed.'' 

The  great  Gregory  furnishes  us  the  second  quo- 
tation: *^The  rebellious  Angel,  created  to  shine 
preeminent  among  hosts  of  Angels,  is  through 
his  pride  brought  to  such  a  fall  that  he  now  re- 
mains subject  to  the  dominion  of  the  loyal  Angels." 

The  third  and  last  evidence  we  cull  from  the 
sermons  of  the  mellifluous  St.  Bernard:  "Shun 
pride;  I  pray  you,  shun  it.  The  source  of  all 
transgression  is  pride,  which  hath  overcast  Lucifer 

249 


VONDEL'S 

himself,  shining  most  splendidly  amongst  the  stars, 
with  eternal  darkness.  Not  only  an  Angel,  but 
the  chief  among  Angels,  it  hath  changed  into  a 
Deva.'' 

Pride  and  envy,  the  two  causes  or  inciters  of 
this  horrible  conflagration  of  discord  and  battle, 
are  represented  by  us  as  a  team  of  starred  animals, 
the  Lion  and  the  Dragon,  which,  harnessed  to 
Lucifer's  battle-chariot,  carry  him  against  God 
and  Michael;  seeing  that  these  animals  are  types 
of  these  two  deadly  sins*  For  the  Lion,  king  of 
beasts,  encouraged  by  his  strength,  in  his  vanity, 
thinks  no  one  above  him;  and  envy  injures  the 
envied  from  afar,  even  as  the  Dragon  wounds  his 
enemy  a  long  way  off  by  shooting  poison  [from 
his  tongue]. 

St.  Augustine,  ascribing  these  two  deadly  sins 
to  Lucifer,  pictures  the  nature  of  the  same  most 
vividly,  saying  that  pride  is  a  love  of  one's  own 
greatness ;  but  envy  is  a  hatred  of  another's  hap- 
piness, the  outcome  of  which  seems  clear  enough. 
"For  each  one,"  says  he,  "who  loves  his  own 
greatness  envies  his  equals,  inasmuch  as  they 
stand  as  high  as  he;  or  envies  his  inferiors,  lest 
they  become  his  equals;  or  his  superiors,  because 

they  are  above  him.'* 

350 


FOREWORD. 

Now,  since  the  beasts  themselves  were  abused 
and  possessed  by  the  damned  Spirits,  as  in  the 
beginning  the  Paradise  Serpent,  and  in  the  holy- 
age  the  herd  of  swine,  that  with  a  loud  noise  was 
precipitated  into  the  sea,  and  since,  also,  the  constel- 
lations are  pictured  on  the  Heavens  in  the  forms 
of  animals,  as  hath  been  thought  even  by  the 
Prophets,  as  the  Pleiades,  or  Seven  Stars,  and 
Arctor us,  Orion,  and  Lucifer;  so  may  it  please  you 
to  overlook  the  elaborateness  and  the  didacticism 
of  this  drama,  if  the  unfortunate  Spirits  upon  our 
stage,  by  means  of  the  same,  help  and  defend 
themselves :  for  to  the  infernal  monsters  nothing  is 
more  natural  than  cunning  traits  and  the  abuse  of 
all  creatures  and  elements,  to  the  prejudice  of  the 
name  and  honor  of  the  Most  High,  so  far  as  He 
shall  this  permit. 

St*  John,  in  his  Revelation,  typifies  the  heav- 
enly mysteries  and  the  war  in  Heaven  by  the 
Dragon,  whose  tail  drew  after  him  a  third  part  of 
the  stars,  supposed  by  the  theologians  to  refer  to 
the  fallen  Angels ;  wherefore  in  Poetry  the  flow- 
ered manner  of  expression  should  not  be  examined 
too  narrowly,  nor  regulated  by  the  subtlety  of  the 
schools* 

We  should  also  make  distinction  between  the 

251 


VONDEL'S 

two  kinds  of  characters  who  contend  on  this  stagfc ; 
namely^  the  bad  and  the  good  Angels,  each  kind 
playing  its  own  role,  even  as  Cicero  and  our  inborn 
sense  of  verisimilitude  teach  us  to  picture  each 
character  according  to  his  rank  and  nature. 

At  the  same  time  we  by  no  means  deny  that 
holy  subject  matter  restrains  and  binds  the  drama- 
tist more  closely  than  worldly  histories  or  pagan 
fables,  notwithstanding  that  ancient  and  famous 
motto  of  the  poets,  expressed  by  Horatius  Flaccus 
in  his  "  Art  of  Poetry  ^  in  these  lines : 

"The  painter  and  the  bard  did  both  this  power  receive, 
To  aid  their  art  with  all  that  they  of  use  believe." 

.  Though  here  it  is  especially  noteworthy  to  state 
how  we,  in  order  to  inflame  the  hate  of  the  proud 
and  envious  Spirits  the  more  strongly,  did  cause 
the  mystery  of  the  future  incarnation  of  the  Word 
to  be  partially  revealed  to  the  Angels  by  the 
Archangel  Gabriel,  Ambassador  from  God,  and 
Herald  of  His  Mysteries;  herein  to  improve  the 
matter,  following  not  the  opinion  of  the  majority 
of  the  theologians,  but  only  of  a  few,  because 
this  furnished  our  tragic  picture  richer  material 

and  more  lustre.     However,  neither  in  this  point 

252 


FOREWORD. 

nor  in  other  cifcomstances  of  cause,  time,  place, 
and  manner  (which  we  employed  to  render  this 
tragedy  more  powerful,  more  glorious,  more  nat- 
ural, and  more  instructive)  has  it  been  our  pur- 
pose to  obscure  the  orthodox  truth,  or  to  establish 
anything  after  our  own  finding  or  notion* 

St»  Paul,  the  revealer  of  God^s  mysteries  to  the 
Hebrews,  extols  most  enviably — even  to  the  pre- 
judice of  the  kingdom  of  the  lying  and  tempting 
Spirits — the  glory,  might,  and  Godhead  of  the 
Incarnate  Word,  preeminent  among  all  Angels  in 
name,  in  sonship,  and  in  heirship ;  in  the  adoration 
of  the  Angels ;  in  His  unction  ;  in  His  exaltation 
at  God^s  right  hand ;  and  in  the  eternity  of  His  ruler- 
ship  as  a  king  over  the  coming  world,  as  the  cause 
and  the  end  of  all  things,  and  as  the  crowned  Head 
of  men  and  Angels:  while  the  Angels,  His  wor- 
shippers, God's  messengers,  as  ministering  Spirits, 
are  sent  to  serve  man,  the  heir  of  salvation,  whose 
nature  God's  Son,  passing  the  Angels  by,  hath 
taken  upon  Himself  in  the  blood  of  Abraham. 

By  occasion  of  this  justification,  I  do  not  deem 
it  unsuitable  here,  in  passing,  to  say  a  few  words 
in  vindication  of  those  dramas  and  dramatists  that 
employ  Biblical  subjects,  inasmuch  as  they  have, 
occasionally,  come  into  reproach ;  since,  forsooth, 

253 


VONDEL'S 

human  tastes  arc  so  various;  for  a  difference  in 
temperament  causes  the  same  subject  to  be  agree- 
able to  one  which  is  repulsive  to  another. 

All  honorable  arts  and  customs  have  their  sup- 
porters and  opponents,  also  their  proper  use  and 
abuse.  The  holy  writers  of  tragfedy  have,  among 
the  ancient  Hebrews,  for  their  example,  the  poet 
Ezekiel,  who  has  left  us,  in  Greek,  the  exodus  of 
the  twelve  tribes  from  Egypt.  Among  the  rever- 
end Church  Fathers,  they  have  that  bright  star  out 
of  the  East,  Gregory  of  Nazianzus,  who,  in  Greek 
dramatic  verse,  hath  pictured  the  Crucified  Saviour 
Himself ;  as  also,  not  long  since,  we  became  in- 
debted to  the  Royal  Ambassador,  Hugo  Grotius, 
that  great  light  of  the  learning  and  piety  of  our 
age,  who,  following  in  the  track  of  St.  Gregory, 
hath  given  us  the  Crucified  One  in  Latin,  for 
which  immortal  and  edifying  labor  we  owe  him 
both  honor  and  thankfulness. 

Among  the  English  Protestants,  the  learned  pen 
of  Richard  Baker  hath  discoursed  very  freely  in 
prose  concerning  Lucifer  and  all  the  acts  of  the 
rebellious  Spirits. 

It  is  true  that  the  Fathers  of  the  Ancient  Church 
banished  the  Christian  actors  from  the  community 
of  the  Church,  and  that  from  that  time  forth  they 

2S4 


FOREWORD. 

were  strongly  opposed  to  the  drama.  But  let  os 
take  into  consideration  the  time  and  the  fact  that 
their  reasons  for  this  were  far  different.  At  that 
period  the  worlds  in  many  places^  was  yet  deeply 
sunken  in  heathenish  idolatry.  The  foundations 
of  Christianity  were  not  yet  well  established^  and 
the  dramas  were  played  in  honor  of  Cybele,  a 
great  goddess  and  mother  of  their  imagined  gods, 
and  were  esteemed  a  serviceable  expedient  with 
which  to  avert  the  land  plagues  from  the  bodies  of 
the  people. 

St.  Augustine  testifies  how  a  heathen  archpriest, 
a  minister  of  Numa^s  ritual  and  idol  service,  on 
account  of  a  deadly  pest,  first  instituted  the  drama 
at  Rome,  sanctioning  it  by  his  authority. 

Scaliger  himself  acknowledges  that  it  was  estab- 
lished for  the  health  of  the  people  by  order  of  the 
Sibyls,  so  that  these  plays  became  a  truly  powerful 
incentive  to  the  blind  idolatry  of  the  heathen, 
extolling  their  gods — a  cankering  abomination, 
whose  destruction  cost  the  first  heroes  of  the 
Cross  and  the  long-struggling  Church  so  much 
sweat  and  blood ;  but  being  now  long  extirpated, 
hath  left  in  Europe  not  a  vestige  behind. 

That  the  holy  old  Church  Fathers,  therefore, 
for  these  reasons,  and  also  because  of  their  corrupt- 

255 


VONDEL'S 

ing  the  public  morals,  and  various  open  and 
shameless  customs,  as  the  employment  of  naked 
boys,  women,  and  maidens,  and  other  obscenities, 
should  rebuke  these  plays,  was  needful  and  com- 
mendable, as,  in  that  case,  would  also  be  so  now. 
This  beingf  considered,  let  us  not  hold  the  good 
and  the  usefulness  of  edifying;  and  entertaining 
plays  too  ligfhtly. 

Holy  and  honorable  examples  serve  as  a  mirror, 
reflecting  for  our  edification  all  virtue  and  piety, 
and  teaching  us,  at  the  same  time,  to  shun  wicked- 
ness and  its  consequent  misery* 

The  purpose  and  design  of  true  tragedy  is 
through  terror  and  sympathy  to  stir  the  spectators 
to  tenderness.  Through  the  drama,  students  and 
growing  youth  are  cultivated  in  the  languages, 
eloquence,  wisdom,  modesty,  good  morals  and 
manners ;  and  these  sink  into  their  tender  hearts 
and  are  impressed  upon  their  senses,  conducing  to- 
wards habits  of  propriety  and  discretion,  which 
remain  with  them,  and  to  which  they  adhere  even 
until  old  age;  yea,  it  occurs,  at  times,  that  erratic 
geniuses,  not  to  be  bent  or  diverted  by  ordinary 
methods,  are  touched  by  this  subtle  art  and  by  an 
exalted  dramatic  style,  thus  influenced  beyond 
their  own  suspicion;  even  as  a  delicate  lyre-string 


FOREWORD. 

gives  forth  an  answeringf  sound  when  its  com- 
panion strings  of  the  same  kind  and  nature,  of  a 
similar  tone,  and  strung  on  another  lyre,  is  caressed 
by  a  skilled  hand,  which,  while  playing,  can  drive 
the  turbulent  spirit  out  of  a  possessed  and  hard- 
ened Saul. 

The  history  of  the  early  Church  seals  this  with 
the  noteworthy  examples  of  Genesius  and  Ardaleo, 
both  actors,  enlightened  in  the  theatre  by  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  there  converted ;  for  they,  while  play- 
ing, wishing  to  mock  the  Christian  Religion,  were 
convicted  of  the  truth,  which  they  had  learned  out 
of  their  serious  r61es,  filled  with  the  pith  of  wis- 
dom, rather  than  with  trifling  discourse  to  be 
mouthed  for  hours  into  the  air  and  more  vexa- 
tious than  instructive. 

They  tell  us  in  regard  to  Biblical  subject  matter 
that  we  should  not  pUy  with  holy  things,  and, 
indeed,  this  seems  to  have  some  show  of  plausi- 
bility in  our  language,  which  hath  given  us  the 
word  ptay  ;  but  he  that  can  stammer  but  a  word 
or  two  of  Greek  knows  that  among  the  Greeks 
and  Latins  this  word  was  not  used  in  this  sense ; 
for  rpaycpdia  is  a  compound  word,  and  really 
means  a  goat-song,  after  the  lyric  contests  of  the 
shepherds,  instituted  for  the  purpose  of  winning  a 

257 


FOREWORD. 

goat  by  singing:,  in  which  custom  the  tragic  songs, 
and,  following  them,  dramatic  plays,  took  their 
origin.  And  if  one  would,  nevertheless,  unmerci- 
fully bring  us  to  task  on  account  of  this  word  phyf 
what  then  shall  be  done  with  organ  ptay^  David's 
harp  and  song  p/ajy,  and  the  ptay  on  the  instru- 
ment with  ten  strings,  and  the  other  kinds  of  play 
on  flute  and  stringed  instruments,  introduced  by 
various  sects  among  the  Protestants  into  their 
meetings  ? 

He,  then,  who  appreciates  this  distinction  will, 
while  condemning  the  abuses  of  the  dramatic  art, 
not  be  ungracious  towards  the  proper  use  of  the 
same ;  nor  will  he  begrudge  the  youth  and  the  art- 
loving  burghers  this  glorious,  yea,  this  divine,  in- 
vention, to  them  an  honorable  recreation  and  a 
refreshing  amelioration  of  the  trials  of  life ;  so  that 
we,  hereby  encouraged,  may  with  greater  zeal 
bring  Lucifer  upon  the  stage,  where  he,  finally 
smitten  by  God's  thunderbolt,  plunges  down  into 
hell — the  mirror  clear  of  all  ungrateful  ambitious 
ones  who  audaciously  dare  to  exalt  themselves, 
setting  themselves  against  the  consecrated  Powers 
and  Majesties  and  their  lawful  superiors* 


258 


Lucifer 


Cbe  Jlrgument. 


UCIFER,  the  Archangel,  chief  and 
most  illustrious  of  all  the  Angels, 
proud  and  ambitious,  out  of  blind 
self-love  envied  God  His  boundless 
greatness;  he  also  became  jealous  of  man,  made 
in  God^s  image,  to  whom,  in  his  delightful  Para- 
dise, was  entrusted  the  sovereignty  of  earth* 

He  envied  God  and  man  the  more  when  Ga- 
briel, God^s  Herald,  proclaiming  all  Angels  to  be 
but  ministering  Spirits,  revealed  the  mysteries  of 
God's  future  incarnation,  whereby,  the  Angels 
being  passed  by,  the  real  nature  of  man,  united 
with  the  Godhead,  might  expect  a  power  and 
majesty  equal  to  God's  own.  Wherefore,  the  proud 
and  envious  Spirit,  attempting  to  place  himself  on 

an  equality  with  God,  and  to  keep  man  out  of 

263 


THE   ARGUMENT. 

Heaven,  through  his  accomplices,  incited  to  arms 
innumerable  Angels,  and  led  them,  notwithstand- 
ing RafacFs  warning,  against  Michael,  Heaven^s 
Field-marshal,  and  his  legions;  and  ceasing  the 
fight,  after  his  defeat,  he  caused,  out  of  revenge, 
the  first  man,  and  in  him  all  his  descendants,  to 
fall,  while  he  himself,  with  all  his  co-rebels,  was 
plunged  into  hell  and  eternal  damnation. 

The  scene  is  in  the  Heavens. 


264 


Dramatis  Person^e. 

Belzebub,  \ 

Belial,        I  .    .    .    Rebellious  Chiefs, 

Apollion,  ) 

Gabriel,     ....     God's  Herald  of  Mysteries, 

Chorus  of  Angels. 

Lucifer,    ....   Stadtholder, 

LUCIFERIANS,  .    .    .  Seditious  Spirits, 

Michael,    ....  Field-marshal. 

Rafael,      ....  Guardian  Angel. 

Uriel, Michael's  Armor-bearer, 


a6t> 


Belial    hence    hath    sped    on    aery 

wings 
To  see  where  lingers  our  Apollion, 
Whom    for   such    flight    most   fit 
Chief  Lucifer 
Hath  sent  to  Earth  that  he  might  gain  for  him 
A  better  sense  of  Adam's  bliss^  the  state, 
Where  placed  by  Powers  Omnipotent  he  dwells. 
And  lo !  the  time  draws  nigh  that  he  return 


207 


LUCIFER. 

Unto  these  courts.    He  cannot  now  be  far, 
A  watchful  servant  heeds  his  master's  glance 
And,  faithful,  stays  his  throne  with   neck  and 
shoulder.  ^° 

Belial: 

Lord  Belzebub,  thou  Privy  Councillor 

Of  Heaven's  Stadtholder,  he  riseth  steep 

And  wheels  from  sphere  to  sphere  into  our  view ; 

The  wind  he  passes  by  and  leaves  a  track 

Of  light  and  splendor  in  his  wake,  where  cleave 

His  speedy  wings  the  clouds ;  and  now  our  air 

He  scents  in  other  day  and  brighter  sun, 

Whose  glow  is  mirrored  in  the  crystal  blue. 

The  heavenly  globes  beneath  behold  his  flight, 

As  up  he  mounts,  and  each  with  wonder  sees       2° 

His  speed  and  godlike  grace.     He  seems  to  them 

No  more  an  Angel  but  a  flying  fire. 

No  star  so  swiftly  shoots.     Behold  him  now. 

Here  upwards  soaring,  and  within  his  hands 

He  bears  a  golden  bough.     The  steep  incline 

He  hath  accomplished  happily. 

Belzcbub: 

What  brings 
Apollion  ? 

z63 


ACT  I. 

JlpOlliOtl: 

I  have,  Lord  Belzebub, 
The  low  terrene  observed  with  keenest  eye. 
And  now  I  offer  thee  the  fruits  g^rown  there 
So  far  below  these  heights,  'neath  other  skies       3° 
And  other  sun :  now  judge  thou  from  the  fruit 
The  land  and  garden  which  even  God  Himself 
Hath  blessed  and  planted  for  mankind's  delight. 

BeUebub: 

I  see  the  golden  leaves,  all  laden  with 
Ethereal  pearls,  the  sparkling  silvery  dew. 
"What  sweet  perfume  exhale  those  radiant  leaves 
Of  tint  unfading !     How  alluring  glows 
That  pleasant  fruit  with  crimson  and  with  gold  I 
'Twere  pity  to  pollute  it  with  the  hands. 
The  eye  doth  tempt  the  mouth.     Who  would  not 
lust  40 

For  earthly  luxury  }    He  loathes  our  day 
And  food  celestial,  who  the  fruit  may  pluck 
Of  Earth.     One  would  for  Adam's  garden  curse 
Our  Paradise.     The  bliss  of  Angels  fades 
In  that  of  man. 

JlpOlliOtt: 

Too  true,  Lord  Belzebub, 

2O9 


LUCIFER. 

Though  high  out  Heaven  may  seem,  'tis  far  too 

low. 
For  what  I  saw  with  mine  own  eyes  deceives 
Me  not.     The  world's  delights,  yea,  Eden's  fields 
Alone,  our  Paradise  excel. 

Belzcbub: 

Proceed. 
We'll   hear   what   thou   shalt   say.      We'll  hear 
together.  50 

JlpOlliOlt: 

I'll  pass  my  Journey  thither  by  nor  tell 

How  dov/nward  sweeping  through  nine  spheres  I 

sped. 
That  swift  as  arrows  round  their  centre  whirl. 
The  wheel  of  sense  revolves  within  our  thoughts 
Not  with  such  speed,  as  I  beneath  the  moon 
And  clouds  dropped  down.      Where  then  aloft  I 

hung, 
On  floating  pinions,  to  survey  that  shore. 
That  Eastern  landscape  far  that  marks  the  face 
Of  that  great  sphere  the  flowing  ocean  rounds. 
Wherein  so  many  kinds  of  monsters  swarm.  60 

Afar  I  saw  a  lofty  mount  emerge, 
From  which  a  waterfall,  fount  of  four  streams, 

270 


I  see  the  golden  leaves,  all  laden  with 
Ethereal  pearls,  the  sparkling  silvery  dew." 


ACT  I. 

Dashed  with  a  roar  into  the  vale  below. 
Headlong  I  steered  my  course  oblique,  with  steep 
Descent,  until  I  gained  the  mountain's  brow, 
Whence,  resting,  all  the  nether  world  I  viewed, 
Its  happy  fields  and  glowing  opulence. 

BClZCDUb: 

Now  picture  us  the  garden  and  its  shape. 

IfPOlliOfl: 

Round  is  the  garden,  as  the  world  itself. 
Above  the  centre  looms  the  mount  from  which    70 
The  fountain  gushes  that  divides  in  four. 
And  waters  all  the  land,  refreshing  trees 
And  fields ;  and  flows  in  unref lective  rills 
Of  crystal  purity.    The  streams  their  rich 
Alluvion  bring  and  nourish  all  the  ground. 
Here  Onyx  gleams  and  Bdellion  doth  shine ; 
And  bright  as  Heaven  glows  with  glittering  stars ; 
So  here  Dame  Nature  sowed  her  constellations 
Of  stones  that  pale  our  stars.    Here  dazzle  veins 
Of  gold ;  for  Nature  wished  to  gather  all  so 

Her  treasures  in  one  lap. 

BCIZCDUD: 

What  of  the  air 

That  hovers  round  whereby  that  creature  lives  ? 

873 


LUCIFER. 

JlpClliOtl: 

No  Angel  us  among;,  a  breath  exhales 

So  soft  and  sweet  as  the  pure  draught  refreshingf 

That  there  meets  man,  that  lightly  cools  his  face 

And  with  its  gentle,  vivifying  touch 

All  things  caresses  in  its  blissful  course : 

There  swells  the  bosom  of  the  fertile  field 

With  herb  and  hue  and  bud   and  branch  and 

bloom 
And  odors  manifold,  which  nightly  dews  90 

Refresh.    The  rising  and  the  setting  sun 
Know  and  observe  their  proper,  measured  time 
And  so  unto  the  need  of  every  plant 
Temper  their  mighty  rays  that  flower  and  fruit 
Are  all  within  the  selfsame  season  found. 

Bcizcbub: 

Now  tell  me  of  man^s  features  and  his  form. 

Jfpollion: 

Who  would  our  state  for  that  of  man  prefer. 
When  one  beholdeth  beings,  all-surpassing, 
Beneath  whose  sway  all  other  beings  stand  I 
I  saw  a  hundred  thousand  creatures  move  100 

Before  me  there :  all  they  that  tread  the  earth 

274 


ACT  I. 

And  they  that  cleave  the  clouds,  or  swim  the 

stream, 
As  is  their  wont,  each  in  his  element. 
Who  should  the  nature  and  the  attributes 
Of  each  one  know  as  Adam !    For  'twas  he 
That    gave    them,    one    by    one,  their    various 

names. 
The  mountain-lion  wagged  his  tail  and  smiled 
Upon  his  lord.    And,  at  his  sovereign's  feet. 
The  tiger,  too,  his  fierceness  laid.    The  bull 
Bowed  low  his  horns ;  the  elephant,  his  trunk.    "<> 
The  bear  forgot  his  rage.     The  griffin  heard 
His  call ;  the  eagle  and  the  dragon  dread, 
Behemoth  and  even  great  Leviathan. 
Nor  shall  I  tell  what  praise  rings  in  man's  ears. 
Amid  those  warbling  bowers,  replete  with  songs 
In  many  tongues ;  while  zephyrs  rustle  through 
The  leaves,  and  brooks  purl  'neath  their  sylvan 

banks 
A  murmurous  harmony  that  wearies  never. 
Had  but  Apollion  his  mission  then 
Accomplished,  sooth,  in  Adam's  Paradise  120 

He  soon  had  lost  all  memory  of  Heaven. 

Belzebub: 

But  what,  pray,  of  the  twain  thou  sawest  there  ? 

27s 


LUCIFER. 

Jipoinott: 

No  creature  hath  on  high  mine  eye  so  pleased 
As  those  below.    Who  could  so  subtly  soul 
With  body  weave  and  two-fold  Angels  form 
From  clay  and  bone  ?     The  body's  shapely  mould 
Attests  the  Maker's  art^  that  in  the  face^ 
The  mirror  of  the  mind,  doth  best  appear. 
But  wonderful!  upon  the  face  is  stamped 
The  image  of  the  soul.    All  beauty  here  130 

Concentres,  while  a  god  looks  through  the  eyes. 
Above  the  whole  the  reasoning  soul  doth  hover, 
And  while  the  dumb  and  brutish  beasts  all  look 
Down  towards  their  feet,  man  proudly  lifts  alone 
His  head  to  Heaven,  in  lofty  praise  to  God. 

BelzeDub: 

His  praise  is  not  in  vain  for  gifts  so  rare* 

JTpOlliOtl: 

He  rules  even  like  a  god  whom  all  must  serve* 

The  invisible  soul  consists  of  spirit  and  not 

Of  matter,  and  it  rules  in  every  limb : 

The  brain  it  makes  its  seat,  and  there  holds  court,  mo 

It  is  immortal,  nor  fears  aught  of  rust, 

Or  other  injury.    'Tis  past  our  sense.     - 

276 


/ 


ACT  L 

Knowledge  and  prudence,  virtue  and  free-will, 
Are  its  possessions.    Dumb  all  Spirits  stand 
Before  its  majesty.    Ere  long  the  world 
Shall  teem  with  men.    It  waits,  from  little  seed, 
A  harvest  rich  in  souls ;  and  therefore  God 
Did  man  to  woman  join. 


Bclzcbub: 

Now  say  me  how 
Thou  dost  regard  his  rib — his  loved  spouse? 


Jlpollion: 

I  covered  with  my  wings  mine  eyes  and  face 

That  I  might  curb  my  thoughts  and  deep  delight, 

"When  erst  she  filled  my  gaze,  as  Adam  led  her 

Into  their  arborous  bower  with  gentle  hand  : 

From  time  to  time  he  stopped,  in  contemplation ; 

And  gazing  thus,  a  holy  fire  began 

His  pure  breast  to  inflame.     And  then  he  kissed 

His  bride  and  she  her  bridegroom :  thus  on  joy 

Their  nuptials  fed — on  feasts  of  fiery  love. 

Better  imagined  far  than  told,  a  bliss 

Divine  beyond  all  Angel  ken.     How  poor  ifo 

Our  loneliness !    For  us  no  union  sweet 

Of  two-fold  sex,  of  maiden  and  of  man. 

Alas!  how  much  of  good  we  miss:  we  know 

277 


'SO 


LUCIFER. 

No  mate  or  happy  marriage  in  a  Heaven 
Devoid  of  woman. 

Thus  in  time  a  world 
Of  men  shall  be  begotten  there  below? 

Jfpollion: 

The  love  of  beauty,  fashioned  in  the  brain, 
Deeply  impressed  by  the  senses  keen, 
This  makes  their  union  strong.    Their  life  consists 
Alone  in  loving  and  in  being  loved —  17° 

One  sweet,  one  mutual  joy,  by  them  indulged 
Perpetually,  yet  e^er  unquenchable. 


BcUcbub:  I 

Now  picture  me  the  bride,  described  from  life. 


JTpOlliOtl; 

That  Nature's  pencil  needs,  nor  lesser  hues 
Than  sunbeams.     Perfect  are  both  man  and  wife; 
Of  equal  beauty  they,  from  head  to  foot. 
By  right  doth  Adam  Eve  excel  in  strength 
Of  form  and  majesty  of  bearing,  as 
One  chosen  for  the  sovereignty  of  Earth : 

278 


—    Perfect  are  both  man  and  wife; 
Of  equal  beauty  they  from  head  to  foot." 


ACT  I. 

But  Eve  combines  all  that  her  bi'ideg:room  joys :  iSo 

A  tenderness  of  limb  and  softer  skin 

And  flesh,  a  lovelier  tint  and  eyes  enchanting-, 

A  charming,  gracious  mouth,  a  sweeter  voice, 

Whose  power  lies  in  a  sound  more  exquisite ; 

Two  founts  of  ivory  and  what  besides 

No  tongue  should  dare  to  name,  lest  Spirits  should 

Be  tempted.    And  though  all  the  Angels  now 

Impress  our  eyes  as  beautiful  and  fair. 

How  ill  their  forms  and  faces  would  appear 

If  seen  within  the  rosy  morning-light  '9° 

Of  maidenhood  I 

BclzebuD: 

It  seems  that  passion  for 
This  feminine  creature  hath  thy  heart  inflamed. 

JlpOlliOtl: 

In  that  delightful  blaze,  my  great  wing-plumes 
I  singed.    Most  hard  it  was  for  me  to  rise 
And  wheel  my  way  to  this  our  high  abode. 
I  parted,  though  with  pain,  and  thrice  turned  back 
My  gaze.    There  shines  no  Seraph  in  the  courts 
Celestial,  here  on  high,  as  she  amid 
Her  hanging  hair,  that  forms  a  golden  niche 
Of  sunbeams  that  in  beauteous  waves  roll  down  200 

281 


LUCIFER. 

From  her  fair  head,  and  flow  along  her  back. 
So,  even  as  from  a  light,  she  comes  to  view, 
And  day  rejoices  with  her  radiant  face. 
Though  pearl  and  mother-o*-pearI  seem  purity, 
Her  whiteness  even  theirs  surpasses  far. 

Bclzebub: 

What  profits  human  glory,  if  even  as 
A  flower  of  the  field  it  fades  and  dies? 

JlpOlliOtt: 

So  long  their  garden  fruit  doth  give,  shall  this 
Most  happy  pair  live  by  an  apple  sweet. 
Grown  on  the  central  tree,  that  nurture  finds      21° 
Beside  the  stream  that  laves  its  tender  roots. 
This  wondrous  tree  is  called  the  tree  of  life. 
'Tis  incorruptible,  and  through  it  man 
Joys  life  eterne  and  all  immortal  things. 
While  of  his  Angel  brothers  he  becomes 
The  peer,  yea,  and  shall  in  the  end  surpass 
Them  all,  until  his  power  and  sway  and  realm 
Spread  over  all.    For  who  can  clip  his  wings  ? 
No  Angel  hath  the  power  to  multiply 
His  being  a  thousand  thousand  times,  in  swarms  220 
Innumerable.     Now  do  thou  calculate 
What  shall  from  this,  in  time,  the  outcome  be. 

282 


ACT  I. 

Bclzcbub: 

Great  is  man's  might,  that  thas  even  ours  out- 
grows ! 

JlpOlliOH: 

Soon  shall  his  increase  frighten  and  astound. 
Though  now  his  sway   stoops   lower   than   the 

moon. 
And  though  'tis  now  determinate,  he  shall 
Yet  higher  rise  and  place  himself  upon 
The  highest  seat  in  Heaven*     If  God  prevent 
Not  this,  how  then  can  we  prevent  it?     For 
God  loves  man  well  and  for  him  made  all  things*  230 

BeUebub: 

"What  hear  I  there  ?     A  trumpet  ?     Surely  then 
A  voice  will  follow*     Go,  see,  while  we  here 
Await* 

JlpOlIiOlt: 

The  Archangel  Gabriel  is  at  hand. 

And  in  his  wake  the  choristers  of  Heaven, 

In  the  name  of  Him,  the  Highest,  to  unfold, 

As  Herald  from  the  towering  Throne  of  Thrones, 

What  there  him  was  enjoined* 

283 


LUCIFER. 

BelzcbHb: 

We  please  to  hear 
Whatever  the  Archangel  shall  command. 

GABRIEL.     CHORUS   OF   ANGELS. 

Gabriel: 

Give  ear,  ye  Angels  all ;  give  ear,  ye  hosts 

Of  Heaven.    The  highest  Goodness,  from  whose 

breast  240 

Flow  all  things  good  and  all  things  holy,  who 
Of  His  beneficence  ne^er  wearied  grows 
And  of  whose  teeming  grace  the  riches  never 
Shall   know   decrease  ;   whose  might  and  Being 

transcend 
The  comprehension  of  His  creatures  all : 
This  Goodness,  in  the  image  of  Himself, 
Formed  man,  also  the  Angels  that  they  might 
Together  here  with  Him  securely  hold 
The  Realm  eterne — the  good  ne*er-comprehended. 
Having  the  while  with  faithfulness  maintained  250 
His  firm  prescribed  law.     He  also  built 
This  wondrous  universe,  the  world  below 
Made  manifest,  and  meet  for  God  and  man. 
That  in  this  garden  man  might  rule  and  there 

Might  multiply  ;  acknowledge  God  with  all 

284 


ACT  I. 

His  seed  ;  Him  ever  serve  and  e*er  revere. 

And    thus    mount   up,   by   the  stairway  of  the 

world, 
The  firmament  of  beatific  light 
Within,  into  the  ne^er-created  glow. 
Though  Spirits  may  seem  pre-eminent,  above     260 
All  other  beings,  yet  God  hath  decreed. 
Even  from  eternity,  that  man  shall  high 
Exalted  be,  even  o^er  the  Angel  world ; 
Him  destined  for  a  glory  and  a  crown 
Of  splendor  not  inferior  to  His  own. 
Ye  shall  behold  the  eternal  Word  above. 
When  clad  in  flesh  and  bone,  anointed  Lord 
And  Chief  and  Judge,  mete  justice  to  the  hosts 
Of  Spirits,  to  Angels  and  to  men  alike. 
From  His  high  seat,  in  His  unshadowed  Realm.  ^70 
There  in  the  centre  stands  the  holy  Throne 
Already  consecrate.     Let  all  the  hosts 
Angelic  then  have  care  to  worship  Him, 
When  He  shall  ride  in  triumph  in,  who  hath 
The  human  form  exalted  o'er  our  own. 
Then  dimly  shines  the  bright  translucent  flame 
Of  Seraphim,  beside  this  light  of  man. 
This  glow  and  radiance  divine.     The  rays 
Of  Mercy  shall  all  Nature's  splendors  drown. 
'Tis  fated  thus — and  stands  irrevocable.  280 

285 


LUCIFER. 

€boru$: 

All  that  the  Heavens  ordain  shall  please  God's 
hosts. 

So  be  ye  faithful,  ever  rendering  thus 

Both  God  and  man  your  service :  since  mankind 

So  well  beloved  are  by  God  Himself* 

Who  honors  Adam  wins  his  Father's  heart. 

And  men  and  Angels,  issuing  from  one  stem. 

Are  brothers  and  companions,  chosen  for 

One  lot,  the  sons  and  heirs  of  the  Most  High, 

A  stainless  line.     One  undivided  will. 

One  undivided  love,  be  this  your  law.  29° 

Ye  know  how  all  the  Angel  hosts  into 

Three  Hierarchies  and  lesser  Orders  nine 

Are  duly  separate :  of  Seraphim 

And  Cherubim  and  Thrones,  the  highest,  they 

Who  form  God's  inmost  Council  and  confirm 

All  His  commands ;  the  second  Hierarchy, 

Of  Dominations,  Virtues,  Powers,  that  on 

The  mandates  of  God's  secret  Council  wait 

And  minister  to  man's  well-being  and  bliss. 

The  third  and  lowest  Hierarchy,  composed  300 

Of  Principalities  and  all  Archangels 

And  Angels,  is  unto  the  middle  rank 

286 


ACT  I. 

Subordinate^  and  service  finds  beneath 
The  sphere  of  purest  crystalline,  in  their 
Particular  charge,  that  wide  is  as  the  vault 
Of  starry  space.    And  when  the  world  shall  spread 
Its  widening-  bounds  without,  shall  unto  each 
Of  these  some  province  there  allotted  be, 
Or  he  shall  know  what  town  or  house  or  being 
Is  to  his  care  committed,  to  the  praise  31° 

And  honor  of  God^s  crown.    Ye  faithful  ones, 
Ye  Gods  immortal,  go  then  and  obey 
Chief  Lucifer,  bound  by  your  God's  commands. 
Bring  glory  to  high  Heaven  in  serving  man. 
Each  in  his  own  retreat,  each  on  his  watch. 
Let  some  before  the  Godhead  incense  burn 
And  lay  before  His  towering  Throne  their  prayers. 
Their  wishes  and  their  offerings  for  mankind, 
Singing  the  Godhead  praise  until  the  sounds 
Re-echo  through  the  corridors  of  Heaven,  320 

In  endless  jubilation.     Let  some  whirl 
The  constellations  and  the  globes  of  Heaven, 
Or  open  wide  the  skies,  or  pile  them  high 
With  pregnant  clouds,  to  bless  the  mount  below 
With  sunshine,  or  with  soft,  refreshing  showers 
Of  manna  and  of  pure  mellifluous  dews ; 
Where  God  is  by  the  happy  pair  adored. 
The  primal  innocence  'mid  Eden's  bowers. 

287 


LUCIFER. 

Let  those  that  air  and  fire  and  earth  and  sea 

Cer  range,  each,  in  his  element,  his  pace  33° 

So  moderate,  as  Adam  may  require ; 

Or  chain  in  bands  the  lightnings,  corb  the  storm. 

Or  break  the  ocean's  fury  on  the  strand. 

Let  others  make  a  charge  of  man  himself. 

Even  to  a  hair  the  sovran  Deity 

Knoweth  the  hairs  upon  his  head.    Then  bear 

Him  gently  on  your  hands,  lest  he  should  dash 

His  foot  against  a  stone.    Let  one  now  as 

Ambassador  from  the  Omnipotent 

Be  sent  below  to  Adam,  King  of  Earth,  340 

That  he  perform  his  bounden  charge.    I  voice 

The  orders  to  my  trump  on  high  enjoined. 

To  these  the  Godhead  holds  you  firmly  bound. 


Cl)ortt$  of  Hna«»s: 

strophe.    • 

"Who  is  it  on  His  Throne,  high-seated, 
So  deep  in  boundless  realms  of  light, 
Whose  measure,  space  nor  time  hath  meted^ 
Nor  e'en  eternity ;  whose  might, 
Supportless,  yet  itself  maintaineth, 
Floating  on  pinions  of  repose ; 

388 


Who  is  It  on  His  Throne,  high-seated  t" 


ACT  I. 

"Who,  in  His  mightiness  ordaineth  350 

What  tound  and  in  Him  changeless  flows 

And  what  revolves  and  what  is  driven 

Around  Him,  centre  of  His  plan  ; 

The  sun  of  suns,  the  spirit-leaven 

Of  space ;  the  soul  of  all  we  can 

Conceive,  and  of  the  unconceived ; 

The  heart,  the  life,  the  fount,  the  sea, 

And  source  of  all  things  here  perceivM, 

That  from  Him  spring,  that  His  decree 

Omnipotent  and  Mercy  flowing  360 

And  Wisdom  from  naught  did  evoke. 

Ere  this  full-crowned  palace  glowing. 

The  Heaven  of  Heavens,  the  darkness  broke  ? 

Where  o^er  our  eyes  our  wings  extending 

To  veil  His  dazzling  Majesty, 

'Mid  harmonies  to  Him  ascending. 

We  fall  before  Him  tremblingly 

And  kneel,  confused,  in  awe  together. 

Who  is  it  ?     Name,  or  picture  then 

His  Being  with  a  Seraph's  feather.  370 

Or  is't  beyond  your  tongue  and  ken  ? 

Antistrophe. 

'Tis  God :  Being  infinite,  eternal. 
Of  everything  that  being  has. 

291 


LUCIFER. 

Forgive  os,  O !  Thou  Power  supernal. 
By  all  that  is  and  ever  was 
Ne'er  fully  praised,  ne'er  to  be  spoken ; 
Forgive  us,  nor  incensed  depart. 
Since  no  imagining,  tongue  nor  token 
Can  Thee  proclaim.    Thou  wert,  Thou  art 
Fore'er  the  same.    All  Angel  praising  380 

And  knowledge  is  but  faint  and  tame. 
Tis  but  foul  sacrilege,  their  phrasing ; 
For  each  bears  his  peculiar  name 
Save  Thee.    And  who  can  by  declaring 
Reveal  Thy  name  ?     And  who  make  known 
Thine  oracles  ?     Who  is  so  daring  ? 
He  who  Thou  art  Thou  art  alone. 
Save  Thee  none  knows  Thy  power  transcendent. 
Who  grasps  Thy  full  divinity  ? 
Who  dares  to  face  Thy  Throne  resplendent,        390 
The  fierce  glow  of  eternity  ? 
To  whom  the  light  of  light  revealed  ? 
What's  hid  behind  Thy  sacred  veil, 
From  us  Thy  Mercy  hath  concealed. 
Such  bliss  transcends  the  narrow  pale 
Of  our  weak  might.     Our  life  is  waning ; 
But  Thine,  Lord,  shall  know  endless  days. 
Our  being  in  Thine  finds  its  sustaining ! 
Exalt  the  Godhead !     Sing  His  praise ! 

292 


ACT  L 

Epode. 
Holy  I  holy !  once  more  holy !  400 

Three  times  holy!     Honor  God ! 
"Without  Him  is  nothing  holy  I 
Holy  is  His  mighty  nod  ! 
Strong  in  mystery  He  reigneth ! 
His  commands  our  tongues  compel 
To  proclaim  what  He  ordaineth, 
What  the  faithful  Gabriel 
With  his  trumpet  came  expounding. 
Praise  of  man  to  God  redounding ! 
All  that  pleaseth  God  is  well.  4>o 


293 


LUCIFER.     BELZEBUB. 

Cucifcr: 

E  speedy  Spirits^  stay  our  chariot  now, 
God's  Morning-star  in  its  full  zenith 

stands; 
Its   height   is   reached;  and   lo!   the 
moment  comes 
When  Lucifer  must  set  before  this  star, 
This  double  star  that  rises  from  below 
And  seeks  the  way  above,  to  tarnish  Heaven 
With  earthly  glow.     No  more  should  ye  adorn 
Proud  Lucifer's  apparel  with  glittering  crowns. 
Nor  gild  his  forehead  with  the  glorious  dawn 
Of  morning-star,  to  which  Archangels  kneel.       ''» 


295 


LUCIFER. 

Another  splendor  sweeps  Into  the  light 

Of    God,  whose  radiance    drowns   our   vaunted 

glory, 
As  to  the  eyes  of  man,  below,  the  sun. 
By  day,  puts    out    the    stars.      The   shades  of 

nigfht 
Bedim  the  Angels  and  the  suns  of  Heaven : 
For  man  hath  won  the  heart  of  the  Most  High, 
Within  his  new-created  Paradise. 
He  is  the  friend  of  Heaven.     Our  slavery 
Even  now  begins.     Go  hence,  rejoice  and  serve 
And  honor  this  new  race  like  servile  slaves.  20 

For  God  was  man  created ;  we,  for  him. 
Let  then  the  Angels  bend  their  necks  beneath 
His  feet.     Let  each  one  now  upon  him  wait 
And  bear  him  even  unto  the  highest  Thrones 
On  hands  or  wings :  for  our  inheritance 
Shall  pass  to  him,  the  chosen  son  of  God. 
We,  the  first-born,  shall  suffer  in  this  Realm. 
The  son,  born  on  that  day,  the  sixth,  and  made 
In  the  image  of  the  Father,  shall  attain 
The  crown.     And  rightly  unto  him  was  given    3° 
The  mighty  sceptre,  which  shall  cause  even  us. 
The  ones  first  born,  to  tremble  and  to  shake. 
Here  holds  no  contradiction  now  i  ye  heard 
What  Gabriel's  trump  spake  at  the  golden  port  ? 

296 


ACT  n. 

BelzebuD: 

O I  Stadtholdcr  of  God^s  superior  Powers, 

Alas !  we  hear  too  well,  amid  the  praise 

Of  choristers,  a  discord  that  makes  sad 

The  feast  eterne*     The  charge  of  Gabriel 

Is  clear.    It  needs  no  tongue  of  Cherubim 

To  unfold  its  sense.    Nor  was  there  need  to  send  40 

ApoUion  below,  a  nearer  view 

To  gain  of  Adam's  realm  beneath  the  moon. 

How  gloriously  the  Godhead  dealt  with  him 

Doth  well  appear.     He  hath,  for  his  defence. 

Even  given  a  life-guard,  many  thousands  strong, 

While  He  supports  his  rank  and  dignity. 

As  if  he  were  the  supreme  Chief  of  Spirits. 

The  massive  gate  of  Heaven  stands  ajar 

For  Adam's  seed.      An   earth-worm    that   hath 

crawled 
Out  of  the  dust — out  of  a  clod  of  clay  5° 

Defies  thy  power.    Thou  shalt  yet  man  behold 
O'er  thee  exalted,  so  that  thou  shalt  fall 
Upon  thy  knees  and  there,  abased,  adore, 
With  drooping  eyes,  his  lofty  eminence. 
His  power  and  high  authority.     He  shall. 
When  glorified  by  the  Omnipotent, 
Yet  seat  himself,  even  by  the  side  of  God, 
Empowered  to  reign  beyond  the  farthest  rounds 

297 


LUCIFER. 

And  endless  circles  of  eternity. 

That,  from  the  bounds  of  time  and  space  set  free,  ^ 

Revolve  unceasingly  around  one  God, 

Who  is  their  centre  and  circumference. 

What  clearer  proof  need  we  to  see  that  God 

Shall  glorify  mankind,  and  us  degrade  ? 

For  we  were  born  to  serve,  and  man,  to  rule. 

Then  henceforth  put  the  sceptre  from  thy  hand ; 

There  is  another  one  below,  who  reigns. 

Or  soon  shall  reign.     Put  off  thy  morning  rays 

And  wreaths  of  light  before  this  sun,  or  else 

Have  care  to  bring  him  in  with  songs  of  joy        70 

And  triumph  and  with  honors  full  divine. 

We  soon  shall  see  the  Heavens  changed  in  state. 

Behold  !  the  stars  look  out  and  from  their  paths 

Retreat,  aglow  with  longing  to  receive 

With  reverence  this  new  and  coming  light. 

Cucifcr: 

That  shall  I  thwart,  if  in  my  power  it  be. 

Belzcbub: 

There  hear  I  Lucifer  and  him  behold. 

Who  from  Heaven's  face  can   drive  the  night 

away. 
Where  he  appears,  day's  glory  dawns  anew. 


Thou  Shalt  yet  man  behold 
O'er  thee  exalted,  so  that  thou  shalt  fall 
Upon  thy  knees,  and  there,  abased,  adore 
With  drooping  eyes  his  lofty  eminence." 


ACT  n. 

His  cfescent  light,  the  first  and  nighcst  God,        so 
Shall  ne'er  grow  dim.      His  word  is  stern  com- 
mand ; 
His  will  and  nod  a  law  by  none  transgressed. 
The  Godhead  is  in  him  obeyed  and  served, 
Praised,  honored,  and  adored.     Should  then  a 

voice 
More   faint  than  his  now  thunder  from  God's 

Throne  ? 
Than  his  be  more  obeyed  ?    Should  God  exalt 
A  younger  son,  begot  of  Adam's  loins. 
Even  over  him  ?     That  would  most  violate 
The  heirship  of  the  eldest-born  and  rob 
His  splendor  of  its  rays.    'Neath  God  Himself       9° 
None  is  so  great  as  thou.    The  Godhead  once 
Set  thee  the  first  in  glory  at  His  feet. 
Then  let  not  man  dare  thus  our  order  great 
Profane,  nor  thus  cast  down  these  vested  Rights 
Without  a  cause,  or  all  of  Heaven  shall  spring 
To  arms  'gainst  one. 

Ettclfer: 

Indeed,  thou  say  est  well : 

It  is  not  meet  for  Dominations  grave. 

Powers  well-disposed  in  state,  thus  to  give  up 

So  loosely  their  established  rights ;  and  since 

301 


LUCIFER. 

The  Supreme  Power  is  by  His  laws  most  bounds  loo 

To  change  becomes  Him  least*     Am  I  a  son 

Of  Light,  a  ruler  of  the  light,  my  place 

I  shall  maintain,  to  no  usurper  bow, 

Not  even  this  Arch-usurper.     Let  all  yield 

Who  will,  not  one  foot  shall  I  e'er  retreat. 

Here  is  my  Fatherland.     Nor  hardships  dire 

Nor  yet  disaster  nor  anathemas 

Shall  me  intimidate,  or  tame.     To  dict 

Or  to  gain  port  around  this  dreadful  cape, 

This  is  my  destiny.     Doth  fate  decree  "<> 

That  I  must  fall,  of  rank  and  honors  shorn. 

Then  let  me  fall ;  but  fall  with  this  my  crown 

Upon  my  brow,  this  sceptre  in  my  grasp, 

"With  my  own  retinue  of  faithful  troops. 

And  with  these  many  thousands  on  my  side. 

Aye,  thus  to  fall  brings  honor  and  shall  shed 

Unfading  glory  on  my  name :  besides. 

To  be  the  first  prince  in  some  lower  court 

Is  better  than  within  the  Blessed  Light 

To  be  the  second,  or  even  less.     'Tis  thus  "<> 

I  weigh  the  stroke,  nor  harm  nor  hindrance  fear. 

But  here,  hardby,  comes  Heaven's  Interpreter 

And  Herald  vigilant,  with  God's  own  book 

Of  mysteries,  committed  to  his  care. 

Most  opportune  for  us  his  coming  hither ; 

302 


ACT  n. 

For  I  would  question  him.     I  shall  accost 
Him  then,  and  from  my  chariot  descend. 

GABRIEL.     LUCIFER. 

eaDricI: 

Lord  Stadtholder,  how  ?     "Whither  bound  ? 

Cttcifcr:  ^    ^ 

To  thee, 
O I  Herald  and  Interpreter  of  Heaven. 

Gabriel: 

Methinks  I  read  thy  purpose  on  thy  brow.  130 

Ettclfer: 

Thou  who  canst  fathom  and  who  canst  reveal, 
Through  the  deep-searching  light  of  thy  mind's 

eye, 
The  shadowy  mysteries  of  God,  relieve 
Me  with  thy  coming. 

6a»riel:  ^     ^    ^ 

"What  doth  burden  thee  ? 

Cucifer: 

The  late  decision  of  the  ruling  Powers, 
The  new  decree  made  by  the  Godhead,  who 

303 


LUCIFER. 

Esteems  celestial  joys  as  of  less  worth 
Than  earthly  elements^  oppresses  Heaven, 
Even  from  the  low  abyss  the  Earth  exalts 
Above  the  stars,  sets  man  higfh  in  the  seat  mo 

Of  the  Ang-els,  whom,  shorn  of  primordial  pow- 
ers. 
He  then  commands  for  human  happiness 
To  sweat  and  slave.    The  Spirits  once  consecrate 
To  service  in  empyreal  palaces 
Shall  serve  an  Earth-worm  that  from  out  the  dust 
Hath  crawled  and  grown  ;  and  on  his  bidding  wait, 
And  see  him  them  excel  in  rank  and  numbers* 
Why  doth  the  endless  Mercy  us  degrade 
So  soon  ?     What  Angel  hath  forgot  to  render 
Due  reverence  ?     How  could  the  Deity  'so 

Mingle  with  base  mankind  and  thus  pass  by 
The  nature  of  His  chosen  Angels  here. 
While  His  own  nature  and  His  Being  He  pours 
Into  a  body  ? — thus  eternity 
Unite  with  its  beginning,  time,  and  what 
Is  highest  to  what  is  lowest  of  the  low  ? 
— The  great  Creator  to  His  creature  bind  ? 
Who  can  the  import  glean  of  this  decree  ? 
Shall  now  eternity's  bright,  quenchless  sun 
Set  in  the  gathering  darkness  of  the  world  ?         160 

Shall  we,  the  Stadtholder  of  God,  thus  kneel 

304 


ACT  II. 

Before  this  shadow  power,  this  puny  lord } 
And  see  the  countless  hosts  of  souls  divine 
And  incorporeal  bow  themselves  before 
A  gross  and  slug:g:ish  element  upon 
Which  God  hath  stamped  His  Being;  and  majesty  ? 
We  Spirits  are  yet  too  gross  to  comprehend 
This  mystery.     Thou,  who  the  key  dost  guard 
Of  God's  rich  treasure-house  of  mysteries. 
Unlock,  if  so  thou  mayest,  this  secret  dark  170 

From  out  thy  sealed  book  :  unfold  to  us 
The  will  of  Heaven* 

Qdbrieh 

As  much  as  is  to  us 
Permitted  to  unfold  out  of  God's  book : 
Much  knowledge  doth  not  profit  one  alway  ; 
Indeed,  may  damage  bring.     The  Sovran  Power 
Revealeth  only  what  He  deems  most  fit. 
The  inner  light  blinds  even  Seraphim. 
The  spotless  Wisdom  would,  in  part,  her  will 
Conceal,  in  part  would  it  disclose.     Himself 
E'er  to  submit  and  to  conform  unto  'So 

A  well-established  law,  this  best  becomes 
The  subject,  who  unto  his  master's  will 
And  charge  stands  bound.     The  reason  why  the 

Lord 

30s 


LUCIFER. 

(Which  secret  we  shall  know,  when  first  shall  pass 
A  lineage  of  Earth-born  generations) 
Who,  in  the  course  of  time,  both  God  and  man 
Become,  shall  reign, — shall  sceptre  sway,  and  rule, 
Afar  and  wide,  the  stars,  the  sea,  the  Earth 
And  all  that  live,  the  Heavens  conceal  from  thee : 
Time  shall  divulge  the  cause*      God^s  trumpet 
heed :  190 

His  will  thou  now  hast  heard. 

Eutlfcr: 

Shall  then  on  high 
A  worm,  an  alien,  wield  the  greatest  power  ? 
Must  they  who  native  are  to  Heaven  thus  yield 
To  foreign  rule  ?     Shall  man  then  found  a  throne 
Even  o'er  the  Throne  of  God  ? 

6dbrich 

Content  thee  with 
Thy  lot,  the  rank  and  state  and  worthiness 
Once  granted  thee  by  God.     For  thee  He  made 
The  head  of  all  the  Hierarchies,  though  not 
To  envy  others*  glory  or  renown. 
Rebellion  flattens  both  her  crown  and  head,        2°° 
Whene'er  she  rears  her  crest  'gainst  God's  com- 
mands. 

306 


ACT  n. 

Thy  splendor  owes  its  lustre  to  God's  power 
Alone. 

Euclfcr: 

Till  now  my  crown  hath  bowed  to  none 
But  God. 

Gabriel: 

Then  also  bow  before  this  last 
Decree  of  God^  who  leadeth  all  that  have 
Their  being:  from  naught,  yea,  all  that  e'er  shall 

live, 
Unto  their  end  and  certain  destiny. 
Though  we  may  fail  to  comprehend  His  plan. 

Euclfcr: 

Thus  to  see  man  into  the  light  of  God 

Exalted,  to  behold  him  deified  21° 

With  God  on  His  high  Throne,  to  see  towards  him 

The  censers  swinging  'mid  the  joyous  tones 

Of  thousand  thousand  holy  choristers. 

With  one  voice  pealing  symphonies  of  praise — 

Such  grandeur  doth  bedim  the  lofty  splendors. 

And  diamond  rays  of  our  own  morning-star. 

That  dazzles  then  no  more,  while  Heaven's  joy 

Shall  pine  in  grief  away. 

307 


LUCIFER. 

6dbrUh 

The  highest  bliss 
Alone  in  calm  contentment  can  be  found 
And  in  agreement  with  God's  will^  in  full  «io 

Compliance  with  His  law. 

Eucifcr: 

The  majesty 
Of  God  and  of  the  Godhead  is  debased, 
If  with  the  blood  of  man  his  nature  ever 
Unites,  combines,  or  otherwise  is  bound. 
We  Spirits  to  God  and  His  deep  nature  come 
Far  closer,  as  children  from  one  father  sprung ; 
And  are  like  Him,  if  unto  us  it  be 
Allowed  to  bring  in  such  similitude 
This  inequality  of  endless  powers 
With  those  determinate,  of  definite  might  23° 

With  might  indefinite.    Should  once  the  sun 
Err  from  his  orbit's  path,  and  veil  himself 
Behind  a  mist,  to  light  the  globe  of  Earth 
Through  clouds  of  smoke  and  darkling   damps, 

how  soon 
The  joys  of  Earth  would  die  I    How  would  the 

race 
Below  then  want  all  light  and  life  I     How  too 
The  sun  would  lack  his  dazzling  majesty. 

Circling  his  daily  round  !    I  see  the  skies 

308 


ACT  n. 

Piled  op  with  gloom,  the  stars  confused  with  fright, 
Disorders  fell  and  chaos,  where  now  law  240 

And  order  reign,  should  once  the  fount  of  light 
Plunge  with  its  splendors  into  some  dark  fen. 
Think  not  too  harshly  then,  I  do  beseech 
Thee,  Gabriel,  if  now  thy  trumpet^s  voice. 
The  new-made  law  given  by  the  High  Command, 
I  do  resist,  or  seemingly  oppose. 
We  strive  for  God's  own  honor,  yea,  to  give 
To  God  His  Right,  should  I  become  thus  daring 
And  wander  far  beyond  the  narrow  path 
Of  my  obedience. 

eabriel: 

Thou  art,  indeed,  250 

Most  zealous  for  the  glory  of  God's  name ; 
Though  truly  without  weighing  well  that  God, 
The  point  wherein  His  majesty  doth  lie. 
Far  better  knows  than  we.     Cease  therefore  now 
This  inquisition.     For  when  God  as  man 
Shall  have  become.  He  shall  this  book  of  His 
Own  mysteries,  now  sealed  with  seven  seals. 
Himself  unseal.    To  taste  the  kern  within 
Is  not  for  thee ;  thou  seest  the  shell  alone. 
Then  of  this  long  concealment  we  shall  learn 
The  cause  and  hidden  reason,  all  the  while 


60 


309 


LUCIFER. 

Deep- gazing  in  the  unveiled  Holy  of  Holies* 
It  now  behooves  us  evet  to  obey 
And  to  revete  this  rising  dawn,  to  use 
Our  light  with  thankfulness  until  the  time 
When  knowledge  in  her  power  shall  drive  all 

doubt 
Away,  even  as  the  sun  the  night.     Now  learn 
We  gradually,  with  modest  reverence, 
God^s  Wisdom  to  approach.     And  this  to  us 
Reveals,  by  slow  degrees,  the  light  of  truth  ^7° 

And  knowledge,  and  requires  that,  on  his  watch. 
Each  shall  submit  himself  to  reason^s  rule. 
Lord  Stadtholder,  be  calm.    Be  foremost,  thou. 
Now  to  maintain  the  law.     God  sends  me  hence. 
I  must  away. 


CHCifcr: 


I  shall  observe  it  well ! 


BELZEBUB.     LUCIFER. 


BClZCbUD: 

The  Stadtholder  now  hears  the  meaning  of 

This  proclamation  grave  so  proudly  blown 

By  Gabriel's  trumpet  bold.    How  well  he  showed 


310 


But  here  hard  by  comes  Heaven's  Interpreter.'* 


ACT  n. 

Thee  God's  design  I  whose  purpose  thou  may'st 

scent : 
Thus  shall  he  clip  the  wings  of  thy  great  power.  28° 

Cucifcrt 

But  not  so  easily :  Ah !  nay,  forsooth ; 
I  shall  have  care  this  purpose  to  prevent. 
Let  not  a  power  inferior  thus  dream 
To  rule  the  Powers  above. 

He  maketh  threat 
Forthwith  to  crush  Rebellion's  head  and  crown. 

Eucifcr: 

Now  swear  I  by  my  crown,  upon  this  chance 
To  venture  all,  to  raise  my  seat  amid 
The  firmament,  the  spheres,  the  splendor  of 
The  stars  above.    The  Heaven  of  Heavens  shall 

then 
My  palace  be,  the  rainbow  be  my  throne,  29° 

The    starry    vast,   my    court,   while,   down    be- 
neath. 
The  Earth  shall  be  my  footstool  and  support. 

I  shall,  then  swiftly  drawn  through  air  and  light, 

313 


LUCIFER. 

Hig-h-seated  on  a  chariot  of  cloudy 
With  lightning  stroke  and  thunder  grind  to  dust 
Whatever  above,  around,  below,  doth  us 
Oppose,  were  it  God's  Marshal  grand  himself. 
Yea,  e'er  we  yield,  these  empyrean  vaults, 
Proud  in  their  towering  masonry,  shall  burst 
With  all  their  airy  arches  and  dissolve  300 

Before  our  eyes :  this  huge  and  joint-racked  Earth, 
Like  a  misshapen  monster,  lifeless  lie ; 
This  wondrous  universe  to  chaos  fall. 
And  to  its  primal  desolation  change. 
Who  dares,  who  dares  defy  great  Lucifer  ? 
We  cite  Apollion. 


Belzebub: 


He  is  at  hand. 


APOLLION.     LUCIFER.     BELZEBUB. 

JlpOlliOtl: 

O  Stadtholder  of  God's  unbounded  Realm, 

And  Oracle  within  the  Council  of 

The  Gods  subordinate,  I  offer  thee 

My  service  and  await  thy  new  commands*  si* 

What  now  the  word — what  of  thy  subject  would 

Thy  Majesty  ? 

314 


ACT  n. 

Cucifcr: 

It  pleaseth  us  to  hear 
Thy  sense  and  thy  opinion  of  a  grave 
And  weighty  plan  that  cannot  fail  to  •win, 
Tis  our  intent  to  pluck  the  proudest  plume 
From  Michael's  wings^  that  our  attempt  upon 
His  mightiness  shall  not  rebound  as  vain. 
With  his  own  arm  as  many  oracles 
He  founds,  as  ever  God  Himself  hath  hewn 
From  deathless  diamond   with  His  hand.     Be- 
hold 320 
Now  man  exalted  to  the  Heaven  of  Heavens, 
Through  all  the  circles  of  the  spheres,  then  sec 
The  Spirit  world,  so  deep,  so  far  below. 
Even  'neath  his  footcloth  there,  like  feeble  worms 
Already  crawling  in  the  dust.     I  joy 
To  storm  this  throne  with  violence,  and  thus 
To  hazard  by  one  strong,  opposing  stroke 
The  glory  of  my  state  and  star  and  crown* 

HpOlliOlt: 

An  undertaking  truly  to  be  praised ! 

May  it  augment  your  crown  and  increase  gain,  33° 

Based  on  such  resolution :  so  I  deem 

It  honors  me  thus  to  advise,  'neath  thee, 

The  prosecution  of  a  cause  so  bold. 

315 


LUCIFER. 

Let  this  result  for  better  or  for  worse. 
The  will  is  noble^  even  though  it  fail. 
But  lest  we  strive  in  vain  and  recklessly. 
How  best  shall  we  begin  so  bold  a  plan  ? 
How  safest  meet  the  point  of  that  resolve  ? 

Cucifcr: 

We  subtly  shall  oppose  our  own  resolve. 

jflpOlliOtl: 

Sooth,  there  is  pith  in  that.  But  what,  pray,  is  340 
Our  borrowed  might,  weighed  in  the  scale  against 
The  Power  Omnipotent  ?  Guard  well  thy  crown ; 
For  we  fall  far  too  light. 

BelzeDub: 

Yet  not  so  light. 
But  that  the  matter  first  shall  hang  in  doubt. 

JlpolliOtl: 

By  whom  or  how  or  where  this  plot  begun  ? 
Even  such  intent  is  treason  'gainst  God's  Throne. 

Cucifcr: 

His  Throne  we'll  not  disturb ;  but  cautiously 

Mount  up  the  steep  incline,  and  those  high  peaks, 

316 


ACT  11. 

Ne'er  blazed  by  path  and  ne'er  ascended,  climb* 
Courage  and  prudence  must,  at  length,  overcome  35° 
And  dare  all  dangers  brave. 

Hpcllioit: 

But  not  the  Power 
Omnipotent,  nor  yet  His  crown :  approach 
Thou  not  too  near,  or  learn  in  sorrow  that 
Repentance  comes  too  late.    The  lesser  should 
Submissively  unto  the  greater  yield. 

Eucifcr: 

The  great  Omnipotent  is  far  beyond 

Our  aim.     Set  forces  like  with  like  together. 

Then  learn  whose  sword  is  weightiest.     I  sec 

Our  enemies  in  flight,  the  Heavens  all  ours 

By  one  courageous  stroke  ;  our  legions,  too,        360 

Overladen  with  the  spoil  and  glorious  plunder. 

Then  let  us  further  now  deliberate. 

Hpollicn: 

Thou  know'st  what  Michael,  God's  Fieldmarshal 

may: 
'Neath  his  command  are  all  God's  legions  placed. 

He  bears  the  key  of  the  armoury  here  on  high. 

317 


LUCIFER. 

To  him  the  watch  is  trusted,  and  he  keeps 
A  faithful,  sleepless  eye  on  all  the  camps ; 
So  that  of  all  the  galaxies  of  Heaven 
Not  even  one  star,  in  its  celestial  march. 
Dare  move  itself  the  least,  nor  stir  without  370 

Its  ranks.    'Tis  easy  to  commence ;  but  in 
Such  warfare  to  engfag:e  exceeds  our  might. 
And  drags  a  train  of  hardships  in  its  wake. 
What  ordnance  and  what  martial  enginery 
Could  e'er  avail  his  legions  proud  to  quell  ? 
Should  Heaven's  castle  ope  its  diamond  port, 
Nor  stratagem,  nor  ambush,  nor  assault 
Could  bring  it  fear. 

But  if  our  bold  resolve 
We  strengthen  with  the  sword,  I  see  upon 
Our  standard,  raised  aloft,  the  morning-star        38° 
Defiance  flashing  till  all  Heaven's  state 
And  rulership  is  changed. 

JlpolliOtt: 

The  Fieldmarshal, 
The  valiant  Michael,  bears  with  no  less  fire 
And  pride  God's  wondrous  name  amid  the  field 

Of  his  great  banner,  with  the  sun  above. 

318 


I 


ACT  n, 

Cucffer: 

Though  writ  in  lines  of  ligfht,  what  boots  a  name? 
Heroic  deeds,  as  this,  are  ne^er  achieved 
With  titles,  nor  with  pomp  ;  but  by  valor,  spirit, 
And  subtle  strokes  in  skill  and  cunning  bred. 
Thou  art  a  master- wit  with  craftiness  39° 

The  Spirits  to  seduce,  them  to  ensnare. 
To  lead  and  to  incite  however  thou  wilt. 
Thou  canst  attaint  even  those  among  the  watch 
Of  most  integrity,  and  teach  even  those 
To  waver  who  had  thought  to  waver  never. 
Begin,  we  see  God^s  legions  in  two  camps 
Divided,  lords  and  vassals  roused  to  strife 
And  mutiny.    The  greatest  part  even  now 
Are  blind  and  deaf,  save  to  their  own  demands ; 
And  one  and  all  cry  loudly  for  a  chief.  400 

If  thou  for  us  a  fourth  part  canst  allure. 
We'll  crown  thy  craft  and  dexterous  management 
With  place  and  honor.    Go,  this  plot  consider 
With  Belial,  for  it  must  be  dark  indeed, 
Where  he  shall  lose  his  way.    His  countenance, 
Smooth-varnished  with  dissimulation's  hue. 
No  master  in  such  deep  concealment  owns. 
My  car  I  now  ascend  :  think  ye  this  over. 
The  G)uncil  hath  convened,  and  now  awaits 

Our  own  attendance.    We  shall  call  you  both    410 

319 


LUCIFER, 

Withm^  as  soon  as  ye  shall  come.    And  thou, 
Chief  Lord^  guard  with  thy  trusty  followers 
This  mighty  gate  that  to  the  palace  leads. 

BELIAL.     APOLLION. 

Belial: 

God's  Stadtholder  doth  serve  himself  with  us 
On  high. 

JRpcl!ion: 

We  fly  together  from  his  bow 
Like  speeding  arrows. 

BelUI: 

And  both  aimed  are 
Even  at  one  mark,  though  perilous  to  reach. 

Jlpollion: 

Ere  long  the  Heavens  shall  crack  'neath  our  at 
tempt. 

Belial: 

Let  crack  what  will,  the  matter  must  proceed. 

:Hpollion: 

How  then  this  cause  to  best  advantage  grasp  ?    4=0 

320 


ACT  II. 

Bclial: 

The  weapons  favor  us :  we  first  most  gain 
The  gfoard. 

The  chieftains  first,  and  with  them  we 
The  bravest  troops  most  then  socceed  in  winning. 

Belial: 

Throogh  something  specioos,  ^neath  some  seeming 
'goised. 

JlpOlliOll: 

Name  thoo  this  thing.     Gime,  say   what   thou 
shalt  call  it. 

Belial: 

Oor  Angel  Realm  most  be  maintained,  its  state. 

Its  honor,  and  its  privilege,  so  choose 

A  chief,  on  whom  each  can  reliance  place. 

JlpOlliCtl: 

Thoo  comprehendest  well :  no  better  caose 

I  wish  as  seed  for  motiny,  to  set  43° 

The  coort    against    its    sobjects,   throng  Against 

throng. 
For  each  among  us  is  inclined  to  goard 


321 


LUCIFER. 

That  honor,  rank,  and  lawful  privilege 

Unto  him  given  by  the  Omnipotent 

Ere  He  created  man,  an  after-thooght. 

The  celestial  palace  is  our  heritage. 

To  the  Spirits,  who  above  float  on  their  wings, 

Who,  incorporeal,  therefore,  ne^er  can  sink. 

This  place  is  more  adapt  than  to  the  race 

Of  Earth,  too  sluggish  far  to  choose  against        440 

Their  nature  these  clear  bows.    Here  shines  the 

day 
Too  bright,  too  strong.    Their  eyes  cannot  endure 
That  splendid  light,  upon  whose  glow  we  gaze. 
Then  let  man  keep  in  his  native  element, 
As  other  creatures  do.     Let  him  suffice 
The  bounds  of  his  terrestrial  Paradise, 
Where  the  rising  and  the  setting  of  the  sun 
And  moon  divide  the  months  and  form  the  year. 
Let  him  observe,  in  their  wide-circling  round. 
The  crystal  spheres.    Let  Eden^s  pleasant  fruits  430 
G>ntent  him,  and  its  flowers  that  breathe  perfume. 
To   range   from  East   to   West,  from  North  to 

South : 
Let  this  his  pastime  be.     What  needs  he  more  } 
We'll  ne'er  bring  homage  to  an  earthly  lord. 
Thus  I  resolve.     Canst  thou  more  briefly  yet 
This  meaning  state  ? 


ACT  II. 

Bcnai: 

For  all  eternity. 
Mankind  to  lock  without  the  gate  of  Heaven* 

JlpOlliOtt: 

That  tinkles  well  in  the  Angfelic  ear. 

That  flashes  like  a  flame  from  choir  to  choir 

Through  Orders  nine  and  all  the  Hierarchies.    460 

Belial: 

So  shall  we  best  a  pining  slowness  feign  ; 
Though  all  our  bliss  and  our  deliverance 
On  speed  and  expedition  hang. 

JlpOlliOtt: 

Not  less 

On  dexterous  management  depends,  nor  less 
On  courage  and  on  bravery. 

Belial: 

That  shall 
Increase,  as  countless  bannered  bands  accede. 

JfpOlliOtl: 

They  even  now  are  murmuring :  then  we 

Should  act  with  secrecy,  share  in  their  hopes, 

And  nourish  their  complaints. 

323 


LUCIFER. 

Bclidi: 

And  then  it  were 

Most  opportune  that  Belzebubt  a  chief  470 

Of  power  and  eminencet  should  tender  them 
His  seal,  to  force  their  vested  Rights  and  gain 
Redress  of  grievances. 

Jlpollion: 

Not  all  at  once, 
But  gradually,  as  if  by  by-paths  won. 

Belial: 

Then  let  the  Stadtholder  himself  approach, 
And  in  support  of  such  a  proud  resolve 
Offer  his  mighty  arm. 


jflpOlliOtt: 

We  soon  shall  hear, 

"When  in  the  Council,  his  opinion 
And  his  intent :  then  let  him  for  a  while 
His  thoughts  dissemble  and,  at  last,  spur  on 
The  maddened  throng,  embarrassed  for  a  head. 


480 


Belial: 

Upon  the  head  depends  the  whole  affair. 
Whatever  thy  promises,  without  a  chief 
They'll  ne'er  commence  so  hazardous  a  cause. 


ACT  IL 

Jfpollion: 

What  hath  been  won,  no  need  to  win  again  1 
"Who  most  hath  lost  in  glory  and  in  state, 
Him  doth  it  most  concern.     Let  him  precede. 
And  beat  the  measure  for  a  myriad  feet. 

Belial: 

Both  equity  and  reason  would  demand 
He  wear  the  crown;  though,  ere  we  deeper  go,  490 
Let  us  all  dangers  weigh  and  nothing  do 
Unless  all  Q)uncilIors  affix  their  seals. 

Cborus  of  Jlngels: 

strophe. 

How  glares  the  noble  front  of  Heaven ! 

Why  streams  the  holy  light  so  red 

Upon  our  face,  overspread 

With  mournful  mists  from  darkness  driven  ? 

What  sad  cloud  hath  profaned 

That  pure  and  never-stained 

Clear  sapphire,  wondrous  bright. 

The  fire,  the  flame,  the  light  soo 

Of  the  resplendent  Power, 

Omnipotence  ?     Why  doth  that  glow 

Of  God  as  black  as  blood  thus  grow« 

That  in  our  aery  bower 

32s 


LUCIFER. 

So  pleased  oor  eyes  ?     O  Angels,  say 

The  cause  of  this  deep  gloom  now  dimming 

Your  radiance  ?     O'er  Adam's  sway 

On  choral  raptures  ye  were  swimming, 

On  Spirit  breath,  amid  a  glow 

That  vault  and  choir  and  court  below  5"o 

And  towers  and  battlements  o'erflooded 

"With  showers  of  gold,  while  joys  unclouded 

Smiled  from  the  brows  of  all  that  live : 

Who  is  it  can  the  reason  give  ? 

£l)oru$  of  Jftidds: 

Antistrophe. 

When  Gabriel's  trumpet,  richly  sounding, 

Inflamed  our  souls  till  a  new  song 

Of  praise  burst  forth  among 

Those  dales,  with  roses  fair  abounding, 

'Mid  the  celestial  bowers 

Of  Paradise,  whose  flowers  52° 

Did  ope,  joyed  by  such  dew 

Of  praise,  then  upwards  through 

The  vast  seemed  Envy  stealing. 

A  countless  host  of  Spirits  dumb, 

And  wan  and  pale  and  sad  and  grum, 

In  crowds,  dire  woe  revealing, 

326 


1 


ACT  n. 

Ocpt  slowly  past,  with  drooping  eye. 

And  forehead  smooth  now  frowning  rimple. 

The  doves  of  Heaven  here  on  high. 

Once  innocent  and  pure  and  simple^  sy» 

Began  to  sigh,  and  seemed  to  grieve 

As  if  e'en  Heaven  they  did  believe 

Too  small  since  Adam  was  created. 

And  man  for  such  a  crown  was  fated. 

This  stain  offends  the  Eye  of  Light  x 

It  flames  the  face  of  the  Infinite, 

In  love  we  would  yet  mingle  in  their  ranks : 
Again  to  calm  this  restless  discontent.  538 


327 


LUCIFERIANS.     CHORUS  OF  ANGELS. 


Cuciferians: 

I OW  oft  belief  proves  but  delusive  hope ! 
Alas!    flow    things    have    changed. 

We  deemed  no  rank 
Than  ours  more  happy  in  this  rising 
Realm, — 
Yea,  thought  our  state  even  like  unto  God^s  own, 
More  blessed  than  Earth  and  e^er  unchangeable,— 
Till  Gabriel  met  us  with  his  trumpet  bold. 
And  from  the  golden  port  the  hosts  astounded 
With  this  new-made  decree,  that  shall  deprive 
The  Angels  of  the  good,  the  highest  good, 


3 -'9 


LUCIFER. 

First  from  the  Godhead's  breast  to  them  out- 
poured, lo 
How  is  our  glory  dimmed !    We  now  behold 
The  beauty  and  the  dazzlingf  radiance 
That  streamed  so  proudly  from  our  ancient  splen- 
dor 
In  darkness  quenched.    We  see  the  Hierarchies 
Of  Heaven  thrown  into  confusion  stran8:e, 
And  man  to  such  a  rank,  to  such  proud  heigfht 
Exalted,  that  we  tremble  even  as  slaves 
Beneath  his  sway.    O  unexpected  blow 
And  change  of  lot !    Ah !  comrades  in  one  grief. 
Ah  I  come  and  gather  round  in  groups  and  sigh  2° 
And  weep  with  us  together  here.    'Tis  time 
To  rend  this  shining  raiment,  meet  for  feasts. 
To  voice  our  plaints  ;  for  none  can  this  forbid. 
Our  gladness  fades  and  our  first  sorrow  dawns. 
Alas !  alas !  ye  choristers  of  Heaven, 
O  brothers,  tear  those  garlands  from  your  brows 
And  change  the  blithesome  livery  of  joy 
For  sorrow's  gruesome  garb.  Oh !  droop  your  eyes. 
Seek  shadows  even  as  we ;  for  sorrow  shuns 
The  light.     Let  each  one  raise  his  voice  to  ours  30 
And  utter  fearful  plaints.     Drown  in  your  grief ; 
Sink  down  in  mournful  thought.    To  voice  your 

woe, 

330 


m 


ACT  m. 

The  bof dcncd  heart  relieves.     Now  joy  to  groan : 
For  gfroaningf  heals  the  smart.    Now  shoot  aloud^ 
As  with  one  voice,  and  follow  these  our  woes : 
Alas !  alas !  where  is  our  bliss  departed  ? 

£boru$  Of  Jlitdeis: 

What  plaint  arises  here,  unpleasant  sound  ? 

The  Heavens  shrink  back  in  fright.    This  air  on 

high 
Hath  not  been  wont  to  hear  the  wail  of  woe 
On  sad  notes  sobbing  through  these  joyful  vaults.  4° 
Nay,  wreaths   and  palms   and   loud    triumphal 

song 
And  tuneful  harps  are  far  more  meet  for  us. 
What  can  this  be  ?    Who  crouches  here  with  head 
Down-hanging,  sad,  forlorn,  and  needlessly 
Oppressed  ?      Who   gave  them  food  for    grief  ? 

Who  can 
The  reason  guess  }    O  fellow  choristers. 
Come  then,  'tis  needful  that  we  ask  the  cause 
Of  their  lament  and  this  dark  cloud  of  woe, 
That  robs  our  splendor  of  its  radiance 
And  dims  and  dulls  the  bright  translucent  glow  50 
Of  the  eternal  fe'ast.    Heaven  is  a  court 
Where  joy  and  peace  and  all  delights  abound. 

Grief  never  nestled  'neath  these  lucid  eaves, 

331 


LUCIP'ER. 

Nor  woeful  pain.    Ah !  fellow  choristers, 
Oh !  come,  console  them  in  their  heaviness, 

Cucifcrians: 

Alas !  alas !  where  is  our  bliss  departed  ? 

Companions  dear  in  our  high  happiness, 

Oh !  brothers,  why  ?   Oh  !  sons  of  the  glad  Light, 

Why  thus  depressed  at  heart  ?     Who  gave  you 

cause 
Thus  to  complain  and  thus  to  mourn  ?     Ye  had  60 
Begun  to  lift  your  heads  aloft  to  Heaven, 
To  bloom  amid  the  day,  whose  lustre  streams 
From  God's  deep  glow.    The  Heavens  brought 

you  forth 
To  mount  in  rapid  flight  from  firmament 
To  firmament  beyond,  from  court  to  court ; 
To  flit  amid  the  shadeless  light  content, 
In  one  delightful  life,  an  endless  feast ; 
And  e'er  to  taste  the  heavenly  manna  sweet 
Of  God's  eternity,  among  your  friends 
In  peaceful  joys.     Oh !  why  ?     This  is  not  meet  70 
For  dwellers  of  the  Spirit  world.    Oh !  nay. 
Nor  meet  for  Dominations,  Powers,  and  Thrones, 

332 


Alas  I  alas  I  where  Is  our  bliss  departed  ? " 


ACT  m. 

Nof  for  the  rtiling;  Heavens.    Ye  gforgfc  your  grief. 
And  sit  perplexed  and  dumb.    Give  voice  to  your 
Necessity :  reveal  it  to  yoor  friends. 
Reveal  your  heart-sore,  that  we  may  relieve* 

Cucifcrians: 

O  brothers,  can  ye  ask  with  earnestness 
Why  we  thus  grieve  ?     Did  ye  also  not  hear 
What  Gabriel's  trump  revealed :  how  we  through 

this 
New-given  command,  down  from  our  state  are 

thrust  80 

Into  a  slavery  of  Earth  and  of 

As  many  souls  as  from  a  little  blood 

And  seed  may  haply  spring  ?  What  have  we  done 

Amiss  ?  how  erred,  that  God  a  water-bubble. 

Blown  full  of  vapid  air,  exalts.  His  sons. 

The  Angels,  to  abase  ? — a  bastardy 

Exalts,  formed  out  of  clay  and  dust  ?    But  now 

We  stood  as  trusty  pillars,  consecrate 

Unto  His  court,  adorned  our  various  place 

As  faithful  members  of  His  Realm ;  and  now,     v» 

In  one  brief  hour,  we  are  expelled  and  shorn 

Of  all  our  dignity, — oppressed,  alas ! 

Too  sternly  and  with  too  much  heaviness* 

The  charter  and  the  primal  privilege 

335 


LUCIFER. 

Received  from  God  are  now  by  Him  repealed* 
And  there  where  we  had  thought  to  rule  with  God 
And  under  God^  shall  now  this  Adam  reign, 
Triumphant  in  his  seed  and  blood  forever. 
The  sun  of  Spirits  hath  set  for  them  too  soon. 
Ah !  comrades,  hear  our  sorrow  and  our  woes,     i^o 
Alas  I  alas !  where  is  our  bliss  departed  ? 

€boru$: 

And  doth  the  charge  that  Gabriel  brought  from 

God 
You  thus  disturb  ?     This  but  a  frenzy  seems. 
Who  dares  to  reprehend  the  high  command  ? 
Who  so  presumptuous  himself  against 
The  Godhead  to  oppose  ?    To  give  to  God 
His  honor  and  His  Right,  to  rest  upon 
His  law,  this  is  our  bounden  charge.    Who  dares 
To  enter  here  with  God^s  Omnipotence 
In  such  dispute  ?     His  word  and  nod  and  will    "o 
Serve  as  our  law  and  pace  and  precept  firm. 
Who  contradiction  breathes  doth  break  the  seal 
Of  the  Most  High.     Obedience  doth  please 
The  Ruler  of  this  Realm  far  more  than  smell 
Of  incense  or  divinest  harmonies. 
Ye  are  (oh !  be  ye  not  so  vain,  we  pray. 

Of  boasted  lineage)  created  more 

336 


ACT  m. 

For  such  subjection  than  for  rulership. 
O  brothers,  cease  this  wailing  and  lament. 
And  bow  beneath  the  yoke  of  the  Power  Su- 
preme. I20 

Cuciferians: 

Say  rather  'neath  the  yoke  of  swarming  ants. 

€Doru$: 

Whene'er  it  pleases  Him,  ye  should  submit. 

Cucifcrians: 

What  have  we  done  amiss  }    The  reasons  tell. 

Cborus: 

Amiss  ?    Impatience  doth  God's  crown  offend. 

Cucifcrians: 

Through  sorrow  we  complain,  through  discontent. 

Cborus: 

Ye  should  instead  your  will  resign  to  God. 

Cuciferians: 

We  rest  upon  the  Rights  given  us  by  law. 

€Doru$: 

Subject  to  God  your  Rights  and  law  remain. 

337 


LUCIFER. 

Euciferians: 

How  can  the  greater  to  the  lesser  yield  ? 

€boru$: 

Who  is  resigned — to  serve  God  is  to  rule.  130 

Cucifcrians: 

Most  freely,  let  but  man  rule  there  below. 

Cborus: 

Though  small  his  lot,  man  lives  in  sweet  content* 

Cucifcrians: 

But  man  is  destined  for  a  higher  lot. 

Cftorus: 

Ages  shall  come  and  go  ere  this  shall  be. 

Cucifcrians: 

An  age  below  is  but  an  instant  here. 

€boru$: 

Thus  be  it,  if  it  be  command  supreme. 

Cucifcrians: 

Far  better  were  this  mystery  ne^er  disclosed. 

338 


ACT  ni. 
€boru$: 

God  in  His  kindness  thus  reveals  His  heart. 

Cuciferians: 

Yet  kinder  towards  mankind,  now  placed  above. 

€boru$: 

Allied  with  God's  own  nature,  wonderful !  140 

Cucifcrians: 

O  Angels,  would  that  God  did  pair  with  you ! 

€boru$: 

What  pleases  God  is  ever  rigfhtly  praised. 

Cudfcrians: 

How  could  He  thus  exalt  mankind  so  higfh  ? 

€bortt$: 

Whatever  God  does,  or  yet  may  do,  is  well. 

Cucifcrians: 

How  man  shall  dim  the  crown  the  Angels  wear ! 

€l)orM$: 

All  Angels  shall  the  God  incarnate  praise. 

33Q 


LUCIFER. 

£ucifcrian$: 

And  worship  clay  and  dust  down  in  the  dust  ? 

£boru$: 

And  praise  God's  name  with  odors  and  with  songf. 

Cucifcrians: 

And  praise  mankind,  constrained  by  higher  Powers? 

APOLLION.     BELIAL.     CHORUS. 

JTpolliott: 

What    murmur    this?      Dost    hear    a    strife    of 
tongues  ?  '5° 

Belial: 

What  throngs  lament  here,  plunged  in  sable  hue, 
With  veils  girt  round  the  breast  and  loins  ?    None 

would 
Believe  that  one  among  the  Spirits,  amid 
The  joys  unending  and  the  feast  eterne, 
Ojuld  mourn,  did  we  not  see  this  wretched  throng 
Cast  down  in  woeful  grief.     What  great  misfor- 
tune, 
What  dire  disaster  them  disturbs  ?     Oh !  how  ? 

340 


ACT  m. 

O  brothers^  what  doth  cause  this  sad  lament  ? 
Who  hath  offended  you?     Your  Rights  we^II 

guard. 
O  brothers^  speak.  Why  miserable  ?  the  cause  ?  ^60 

€borus: 

They  make  complaint  of  man^s  approaching  state 
And  triumph,  as  proclaimed  by  Gabriel's  trumpet ; 
That  he  outranks  the  Angels  and  that  God 
Shall  join  His  Being  to  Adam's — all  the  Spirits 
Thus  made  subordinate  unto  man's  sway. 
This  briefly,  clearly,  states  their  sorrow's  cause. 

Hpolllon: 

'Tis  hard  such  inequality  to  bear. 

Belial: 

It  almost  goes  beyond  our  utmost  strength. 

Cbcrus: 

We  pray  your  aid  this  difference  to  compose. 

JTpOlliOtt: 

What  remedy  ?     How  can  we  them  appease  ?     '7° 

They  rest  secure  upon  their  lawful  Rights. 

341 


LUCIFER. 

£boru$: 

What  Rights  ?    The  same  power  that  or daineth 

laws 
Hath  might  to  abrogate  those  laws  as  welL 

JipOlliOtt: 

How  thus  can  Justice  unjust  verdicts  speak  ? 

Chorus : 

G)rrect  God's  verdicts,  thou !  "Write  thou  His  laws ! 

Belial: 

The  child  doth  follow  in  his  father's  steps. 

£bortt$: 

To  walk  where  He  hath  trod  is  Him  to  heed. 

JlpOlliOtl: 

The  change  in  God's  own  will  doth  cause  this 
strife. 

€ftoru$: 

While  one  He  settcth  on  a  throne,  He  casts 

Another  down :  the  one  least  worthy  must  'So 

Unto  the  son  more  favored  then  submit. 

342 


ACT  m. 

Belial: 

Equality  of  grace  would  best  become 
The  Godhead*    Now  the  darkness  dares  to  dim 
The  light  celestial,  while  the  sons  of  night 
Defy  the  day  itself. 

Cborus: 

Whatever  doth  breathe 
May  rightly  the  Creator  praises  bring, 
Who  each  his  being  gave  and  onto  each 
Gave  his  degree.    Whenever  it  plcaseth  Him, 
The  element  of  earth  shall  change  to  air, 
To  water,  or  to  fire  ;  the  Heaven  itself,  '90 

To  Earth ;  an  Angel,  to  a  beast ;  mankind. 
To  Angels  or  to  something  new  and  strange. 
One  Power  rules  over  all,  and  thus  can  make 
The  proudest  tower  become  the  humblest  base. 
The  least  received  is  in  pure  mci  y  given. 
Here  is  no  choice.     Here  wit  and  knowledge  fail. 
In  such  unlikeness  doth  God's  glory  lie. 
So   see  we  with   things   lightest   weighed   those 

things 
Of  greatest  weight,  which  thus  e'en  heavier  grow : 
Thus  beauty  fairer  glows  o'er  beauty  glossed,     2°° 
Hue  cast  o'er  hue,  the  diamond  splendor  over 
The  blue  turquoise ;  so  see  'gainst  odors  odors, 

343 


LUCIFER. 

The  ligfht  intense  against  the  glimmer  dim, 

The  galaxies  unto  the  stars  opposed. 

Our  place  within  the  universal  plan 

Thus  to  disturb,  into  confusion  all 

Things  throwing  that  once  God  did  there  dispose 

And  place ;  and  all  the  creature  may  arrange ; 

This  is  mis-shapen  to  the  inmost  joint. 

Cease,  then,  this  murmuring.  The  Godhead  can  21° 

The  state  of  Angels  miss ;  nor  aided  is 

By  others'  service ;  for  the  glorious  Realm 

Eterne  nor  music  needs,  nor  incense,  nor 

These  odors  swung,  nor  harmonies  of  praise. 

Ungrateful  Soirits,   be   still :   your  base  tongues 

curb. 
Ye  know  not  God's  design.     Be  ye  content 
With  your  established  lot,  and  unto  God 
And  Gabriel's  decree  yourselves  submit. 

Jlpollion: 

Is  then  the  high  state  of  the  ruling  Spirits 

So  changeable  ?  They  stand  on  slippery  ground.  220 

How  pitiable  their  lot !  how  miserable ! 

€boru$: 

Because  a  lesser  in  this  Realm  shall  reign  ? 

We  shall  remain  as  now  :  how  are  we  wronged  } 

344 


ACT  m. 

Belial: 

They  are  the  nighest  God,  their  refuge  sure 
And  Father :  they  upon  His  breast  have  lain : 
Now  lies  a  lesser  one  more  close  than  they* 

Cborus: 

For  one  to  grieve  o'er  others'  bliss  shows  lack 

Of  love,  and  scents  of  envy  and  of  pride« 

Let  not  this  stain  upon  the  purity 

And  brightness  of  the  Angels  thus  remain.  23° 

To  strive  in  concord,  love,  and  faithfulness. 

The  one  against  the  other  here,  doth  please 

The  Father,  who  all  things  in  ranks  ordained. 

Belial: 

So  they   maintain  the  rank  the  Heavens  them 

gave; 
But  hardly  can  endure  man's  slave  to  be. 

Cftorus: 

That's  disobedience,  and  from  their  rank 
They  thus  shall  fall  away.     Thou  seest  how,  too. 
The  hosts  of  Heaven,  in  golden  armor  clad 
And  in  appointed  ranks  arrayed,  keep  watch. 
Each  in  his  turn  ;  how  this  star  sets  and  that      240 

Ascends ;  and  how  not  one  of  all  on  high 

345 


LUCIFER. 

The  lustre  dulls  of  others  there  more  clear, 

Nor  yet  of  those  more  dim  ;  how  some  stars,  too, 

A  greater,  others  lesser  orbits  trace : 

Those  nearest  to  Heaven  most  swift  and  those 

beyond 
More  slowly  turn :  yet  midst  this  all,  among 
These  inequalities  of  light,  degree. 
And  rank,  of  orbit,  kind,  and  pace,  thou  sccst 
No  discord,  envy,  strife.     The  Voice  of  Him 
Who  ruleth  all  this  measured  cadence  leads,        aso 
That  listens  and  Him  faithfully  obeys* 

Belial: 

The  firmament  remains,  as  God  decreed. 
Had  it  not  pleased  Him  thus  to  disarrange 
The  state  of  Angels,  they  would  not,  as  now. 
Awake  the  stars  from  their  harmonious  peace, 
Nor  thus  disturb  with  plaints  these  quiet  courts. 

€borus: 

Beware  lest  thou  this  discontent  shouldst  flame. 

Jlpollion: 

We  would  this  lowering  cloud  might  leave  our  sky 
Before  it  bursts  and  sets  the  vast  expanse 

346 


ACT  m. 

Of  Heaven  in  flames.    They  grow  in  numbers. 
"Who  =«6o 

Shall  them  appease  ?    Who  cometh  hitherwar d  ? 

LUCIFERIANS.     BELZEBUB.     CHORUS. 

Cucifcrians: 

Alas !  alas !  where  is  our  bliss  departed  ? 

BCIZCDUD: 

AH  gfoeth  well :  we  g:ain  increase.    In  g:rief 

The  Ang:els  now  assemble,  and  in  woe 

Their  heads  they  droop  together.    What   doth 

move 
You,  Angel  hosts,  with  sighs  and  groans  to  mourn  ? 
Can,  then,  the  bloom  of  happiness  thus  fade  ? 
In  peace  all  to  possess  that  Spirit  can  wish 
From  God,  the  Giver — doth  even  this  content 
You  not?     Ye    therefore    stand  in    your    own 

light,  270 

And  cherish  moumfulness,  whose  cause  I  can 
Nor    fathom    nor    discern.      Gjme,    cease    your 

groans. 
Nor  longer  tear  your  standards  and  your  robes 
Without  a  cause ;  but  clear  your  clouded  face 

And  darkened  forehead  with  new  radiance^ 

347 


LUCIFER. 

O  children  of  the  Light !     The  voices  shfill, 
Whose  deep-resounding  songs  the  Godhead  praise, 
Grow  faint,  displeased  that  ye  should  mingle  with 
Their  godlike  melody  such  spurious  sounds 
And  bastard  tones.  Your  bitter  moan  doth  mar  280 
The  rhythm  of  the  celestial  palace  till 
These  vaults  re-echo  with  your  woe.    The  wail 
Of  sorrow  through  the  highest  arches  rolls, 
From  sphere  to  sphere :  nor  without  crime  can  ye 
By  such  sad  discord  thus  the  growth  disturb 
Of  God^s  great  name  and  glorious  majesty. 

Cuciferians: 

Chief  Lord,  whose  potent  word  unnumbered  bands 

"Would  call  to  arms,  thou  comest  most  opportune 

To  soothe  our  misery  and  to  prevent 

By  thy  great  power  this  threatened  injury  29° 

And  undeserved  disp-race.     Shall  Gabriel 

The  sacred  crown  of  the  holy  Angels  place 

On  Adam's  head :  through  Adam's  son  and  heir 

Crush  God's  first-born  ?    'Twere  better  far  had  we 

Not  been  made  ere  the  splendor-dazzling  sun 

His  chariot  mounted  and  in  Heaven  shone. 

The  Godhead  chose  in  vain  the  Spirits  as  guards 

Of  these  immobile  courts,  if  thus  He  shall, 

Against  their  vested  Rights,  Himself  oppose ; 

348 


I 


ACT  m. 

Who  guiltless  to  resistance  are  provoked  3<» 

By  dire  impatience  and  necessity. 

We  were  rejoicing  here^  enraptured  with 

The  praise  to  God  outpoured,  were  bowing  low 

In  deep  humility,  and  worshipping 

'Mid  burning  censers  with  devotion  flamed : — 

All-quivering  with  the  rippling  notes,  the  Heavens, 

From  choir  to  choir,  unto  the  sound  gave  ear — 

Yea,  melted  slowly  in  delicious  joy, 

"With  song  and  harp  enchanted— when  the  trump 

Of  Gabriel  'mid  the  rising  harmony  31° 

Blew  that  decree,  and  midst  the  glory  fell 

This  sudden  thunderbolt  of  night.     There  lay 

We  all  amazed,  dispersed,  with  gloom  depressed. 

The    gladness    died    away.     Hushed    were    the 

throats 
Pregnant   with   praise.     The   youngest   son  was 

given 
The  crown,  the  sceptre,  and  the  blessing,  while 
The  eldest-born,  thus  disinherited. 
By  Majesty  Supreme,  marked  as  a  slave 
Remains.    That  is  the  part  obedience. 
Devotion,  love,  and  faithfulness  receive  320 

From  God's  rich  treasury,  that  mourning  brings ; 
That  wrath  enkindles,  and  thoughts  of  revenge, 

Grown  out  of  righteous  hate,  to  smother  in 

349 


LUCIFER. 

His  kIoo(l  this  upstart  man^  ere  he  shall  crush 
The  Angels  in  their  state ;  and  they  be  forced^ 
As  base  and  craven  slaves,  with  fetters  bound. 
To  run  before  his  lash  and  at  his  will, 
Even  as  he  keeps  the  beasts  beneath  in  awe. 
Chief  Lord,  thou  canst  prevent  our  fall,  and  by 
Our  charter  yet  preserve  our  Rights :  protect      330 
Us  by  thy  power.    We  are  prepared  even  now 
To  follow  'neath  thy  standard  and  command. 
To  be  thy  troops.    Lead  on.    *Tis  glorious 
To  battle  for  one's  honor,  crown,  and  Right. 

BClZCDUb: 

Methinks  that  thou  art  wrong.    O  King  of  Lords, 
'Twere  better  to  avert  this.    Give  no  cause 
For  mutiny  or  discord :  give  no  cause 
Whereby  Rebellion  grows.    What  remedy  ? 
How  reconcile  you  with  the  Majesty 
Supreme  ? 

Cuciferians: 

He  doth  transgress  the  holy  Right  34° 
Once  to  the  Angels  given. 

Belzcbubt 

The  lawful  Rights 

Of  subjects  to  transgress  can  them  inflame, 

350 


ACT  m. 

And  fires  enkindle  that  the  very  air 
Would  soon  consume.     How  poor  a  recompense 
For  stainless  faith  !     How  shall  we  best  conduct 
Ourselves  amid  this  mournful  hopelessness  } 

CuciferUns: 

'Twill  comfort  us  one  bold  attempt  to  make* 

Belzcbub: 

What  venture  this  ?    Adopt  a  softer  pace. 

£ucifcrian$: 

This  violence  needs,  compulsion,  and  revenge. 

BelzeDui): 

We  might,  mayhap,  a  safer  method  choose.        350 

Euciferians: 

Delay  would  bring  us  here  not  gain,  but  loss. 

BelzeDuD: 

One  should  his  wrong  with  reason  understand. 

CucifcrUns: 

Reason  doth  publish  here :  we  are  oppressed. 

351 


LUCIFER, 

Belzcbub: 

With  prayers  ye  first  and  best  might  gain  your 
end. 

CucifcrUns: 

This  plot  to  bare  would  foil  its  execution. 

BclzeDub: 

Scarce  can  such  plot  be  hidden  from  the  light. 

CuciferUns: 

"We're  gaining  fast,  and  stand  in  equipoise. 

BelzcbuD: 

Their  chance  is  best  who  with  God^s  Marshal  fight. 

Eucifcrians: 

This  can  be  righted  ne'er  by  fright  nor  moan. 

BelzcbuD: 

But  what  say  Belial  and  Apollion  ?  360 

Cucifcrians: 

Both  are  with  us,  and  strengthen  our  array. 

BclZCbUD: 

How  gained  ye  them  ?  'Tis  far,  indeed,  progressed. 

35* 


I 


ACT  m. 

Cucifcrians: 

The  Heavens  flow  toward  us  now  with  teeming 
floods* 

BelzebuD: 

Trust  not  in  armies  formed  of  wavcringf  throngs* 

Cuciferians: 

Even  now  advantage  towers^  and  danger  flees. 

BClZCDUb: 

"Who  rashly  dares  should  not  advantage  claim* 

Cuciferians: 

All  on  the  issue  hangs.    Before  the  event 
All  judgment  errs.    The  gathered  hosts  demand 
Thee  as  their  leader  and  their  sovran  chief 
In  this  our  expedition. 

Belzcbub: 

But  who  could  370 

Be  so  bereft  of  wit  as  to  defend 
Your  righteous  cause^  and  by  such  course  provoke 
The  battled  hosts  of  Heaven  ?    Aye,  to  yourselves 
Be  ye  more  merciful.     Exempt  me  from 
This  charge.     I  choose  to  hold  a  neutral  place. 

Deliberation  will  yet  make  things  right. 

353 


LUCIFER. 

€boru$: 

O !  brothers^  hear.     Through  mediators  take 
Unto  God's  Throne  your  supplications  sad. 
More  ground  is  won  by  mediation  than 
Rebellion's  steep  ascent.     With  coolness  act :       380 
With  reason  and  deliberation  weigh. 
We  will  on  high  your  Rights  defend.     Be  calm  : 
Ye  offend  the  crown  of  God,  the  Lord  of  Lords. 

Cucifcrians: 

And  ye,  our  vested  Right :  be  ye  less  bold. 
Lord  Belzebub,  advance  our  lawful  claim. 
Place  all  the  legions  now  in  battle  line. 
We'll  follov/  thee  together. 

BClZCbUD: 

Stay,  O  think. 

Ye  flaming  zealots,  think,  I  pray  you,  farther. 
I  will  precede  you  to  the  palace  grand, 
Unto  the  Throne,  and  there  our  Rights  obtain    390 
Through  peaceful  means  and  mutual  covenants. 
Made  voluntarily  and  uncompelled, 

Cborus: 

Be  still !  be  still !  thou  art  by  Michael  spied. 


'  Be  still  1  be  still !  thou  art  by  Michael  spied.'* 


ACT  m. 

MICHAEL.     BELZEBUB.     LUCIFERIANS. 

Where  are  we  ?    What  great  noise  arises  here  ? 

This  seems  a  court  of  tumult  and  dispute. 

Instead  of  peace,  obedience,  and  faith. 

Prince  Belzebub,  what  reasons  move  thee  thus, 

Head  of  rebellious  hordes,  to  aid  a  cause 

So  pregnant  with  such  godless  treachery. 

Against  that  God  the  refuge  of  us  all  ?  400 

BcUcbub: 

Mercy,  O  Michael !     Deem  us  worthy  words 
Explanatory,  ere  in  zealous  wrath 
Thou  dost  thy  sentence  for  God^s  honor  pass. 
Impute  to  us  no  guilt. 

micbacl: 

Your  innocence 
Establish.    I  shall  patiently  attend. 

BeUebuD: 

The  assemblage  of  so  many  thousand  troops, 
Disturbed  by  God's  command,  through  Gabriel's 

trumpet 
From  out  the  Throne  of  Thrones  proclaimed,  de- 
mands 

357 


LUCIFER. 

Some  mediation  that  shall  quench  this  flame ; 
Wherefore  I  came  to  gain  a  better  sense  410 

Of   the  ground  of  their  complaints,  to  quell  as 

best 
I  could  this  mutiny.     But  they  began 
With  frantic  haste  and  raving  recklessness 
To  force  their  clamorous  claims  upon  me.    I 
Then  made  attempt  their  forces  to  disperse 
(Let  to  my  faith  these  faithful  choristers 
Their  witness  bear),  to  counsel  that  they  pour 
Their  grievances  before  God's  Throne ;  but  'mid 
This  tumult  and  this  clamor,  vain  my  zeal, 
As  if  to  calm  a  sea  swollen  to  the  skies.  42° 

Let  now  the  Field-marshal  lead  on  ;  we  arc 
Prepared  to  follow,  if  he  see  a  way 
To  smooth  this  difference. 

Who  dares  oppose 
Himself  to  God  and  His  most  holy  will  ? 
And  who  so  bold  these  warlike  banners  thus 
To  plant  within  the  virgin  Realm  of  peace  ? 
If  ye  through  envoys  wish  to  treat  on  high. 
For  your  defence,  we  will  your  cause  assume 
And  mediate  with  God  that  He  forgive : 
Or  else  beware  your  heads !  This  ne'er  succeeds.  430 

358 


ACT  UI. 

Cuciferians: 

And  wouldst  thou  then  oppress  our  holy  Right 
By  force  of  arms  ?     Unto  the  Field-marshal 
They  were  not  given  for  such  purpose  dire* 
We  rest  alone  upon  our  vested  Rights. 
Most  bold  and  strong  is  conscious  righteousness. 

Itlicbacl: 

Least  righteous  he  who  would  rebel  'gainst  God. 

Cuciferians: 

We  serve  God.     He  has  for  His  service  found 

Us  ever  worthy.     Let  the  Heavens  remain 

In  their  first  state.     Nor  let  the  honored  sons 

Of  the  Fatherland  celestial  thus  be  placed  44^ 

Beneath  mankind  in  rank  and  dignity. 

For  such  disgrace  the  Thrones  and  Hierarchies, 

The  Powers  and  Dominations^  high  and  low, 

Of  Spirits,  of  Angels,  and  of  great  Archangels, 

Shall  ne'er  endure.     Ah  !  nay,  although,  forsooth. 

Thy  lightning  spear  should  pierce  them,  breast  on 

breast. 
Through  their  most  faithful  hearts.   From  Adam's 

race 
We  never  shall  such  bold  defiance  brook. 

359 


LUCIFER. 

micbacl: 

I  will  that  each  depart,  even  as  I  wave 

My  hand.    He  God  and  Godhead  doth  oppose,  450 

Who  now,  forsworn,  'gainst   us  shall  take  his 

stand. 
Depart  unto  your  posts.     That  is  the  duty 
Of  soldiers  and  of  loyal  sons  of  Heaven. 
What  violence  ?     What  impious  threat  is  this  ? 
Who  wages  war,  save  'neath  my  banner  bold. 
Doth  fight  'gainst  God  and  doth  oppose  His  Realm. 

Cuciferians: 

Who  wards  his  Right  need  fear  no  violence. 
Nature  made  each  defender  of  his  Right* 

niicbaci: 

'Tis  my  command  ye  lay  your  weapons  down. 
Such   gathering   breaks    your    honor   and    your 
oath.  460 

Cuclferians: 

The  hosts  Angelic  are  by  nature  bound 

In  union  strong.     They  stand  or  fall  together. 

Not  one  alone  is  touched  in  this  dispute. 

But  one  and  all. 

360 


I 


ACT  m. 

"Would  ye  with  weapons  then 
In  such  tumultuousness  the  Heavens  embroil  ? 
These  were  not  given  you  to  use  ^g-ainst  God. 
Abuse  your  power,  then  fear  the  Power  Supreme. 

Cuciferians: 

The  Stadtholder  we  hourly  here  await. 
In  haste  he  hath  been  summoned  to  attend. 
"We'll  venture  all,  'gainst  Gods  arraying  Gods,    470 
Rather  than  thus  our  Rights  resign  through  force. 

micbaci: 

So  great  an  indiscretion  I  shall  never 
From  Heaven's  Stadtholder  await. 

Cuctferians: 

It  seems 
More  like  an  indiscretion  thus  to  place 
Those  older  and  first  born,  like  servile  slaves. 
Beneath  the  yoke  of  him,  the  youngest-born. 
But  that  the  Angels  now  defend  their  kind. 
And  here  against  their  peers,  in  rank  and  state 
And  being,  contend,  is  indiscretion  called. 

michael: 

O  stiff-necked  kind,  ye  are  no  longer  sons  480 

Of  Light ;  but  rather  are  a  bastard  race, 

361 


I 


LUCIFER. 

Which  yields  not  even  to  God.    Ye  but  ptovoke 
The  lightning  stroke  and  wrath  implacable. 
Harden  your  hearts,  lo !  what  calamity 
And  what  a  fall  for  you  reserved !     Ye  heed 
Nor  counsel  nor  advice.     We^ll  see  what  us 
Enjoined  is  on  high  by  Voice  Supreme. 
Come,  then  ;  I  wish  now  all  the  choristers 
And  hosts  yet  righteous  and  yet  virtuous 
To  part,  at  once,  from  these  rebellious  throngs.  ■ 

EMCifcrians: 

Let  part  who  will ;  but  we  shall  keep  together. 

Itlicbael: 

Come  follow,  O  ye  faithful  choristers, 
God^s  Field-marshal  behind. 


£uciferian$: 

Depart  in  peace. 


BELZEBUB.     LUCIFER.     LUCIFERIANS. 

Belzcbub: 

The  Field-marshal,  in  haste,  to  God  hath  gone. 
Bearing  complaint.    Keep  heart :  Prince  Lucifer 
Speeds  hither  ward  on  winged  chariot. 

Ye  should  therefore  at  once  deliberate. 

362 


I 


ACT  m. 

Helpless  the  battled  host  without  a  chief : 
As  to  myself,  the  post  is  far  too  grave. 

Cucifcr: 

Afar  and  wide,  the  Heavens  vibrate  and  shake  500 
With  the  sound  of   your   disputes.     The  legions 

stand 
Divided,  split  in  twain.     The  tumult  wins 
Increase.     Our  great  necessity  enjoins 
Much  prudence  here,  disaster  to  prevent* 

Cucifcrians: 

Lord  Stadtholder,  of  all  the  Spirits  brave. 
Retreat  and  refuge  sure,  we  hope  that  thou 
Shalt  ne^er,  as  Michael,  doom  the   neck  of  the 

Angels 
To  be  thrust  ^neath  the  feet  of  Adam^s  brood, 
And  then,  as  he,  go  gild  and  bloom  this  shame 
And  insult  with  the  show  of  equity  ;  51° 

And  with  thy  might  sustain  the  bold  ascent 
Of  man,  this  gross  and  Earth-bom  race.    To  God, 
By  him  so  seldom  seen,  what  incense  brings  he  ? 
Why  stand  we  charged  to  serve  a  worm  so  base. 
To  bear  him  on  our  hands,  to  heed  his  voice  ? 
Made  God  the  boundless  Heavens  and  Angels  then 

For  him  alone  ?    'Twere  better  far  had  we 

363 


LUCIFER. 

Never  been  made^  sooth,  had  wc  never  been. 
Oh  I  pity,  Lucifer,  do  not  permit 
Oor  Order  now  so  low  to  be  abased,  530 

And,  guiltless,  to  decline,  while  man,  thus  made 
The  Chief  of  Angels,  e^er  shall  shine  and  glow 
Amid  the  splendor  inaccessible. 
Before  which  Seraphim  as  shadows  fade. 
With  dreadful  trembling.     If  thou^lt  condescend 
So  great  injustice  in  this  Realm  to  quell. 
And  shalt  maintain  our  Rights,  we  swear  together 
E^er  to  support  thy  mighty  arm.     Then  grasp 
This  battle-axe.     Help  us  our  Rights  to  ward. 
We  swear,  by  force,  in  majesty  undimmed,  530 

To  set  thee  on  the  Throne  for  Adam  made. 
We  swear  with  one  accord  support.    Then  grasp 
This  battle-axe.    Help  us  our  Rights  to  ward. 

Eucifer: 

My  sons,  upon  whose  faith  and  loyalty 

No  stain  of  treason  lies,  all  that  God  wills. 

All  He  demands  of  us,  is  right :  I  know 

No  other  law  ;  and  stay,  as  Stadtholder 

Of  God,  His  late  decree  and  His  resolve 

With  all  my  might.    This  sceptre  which  I  bear, 

To  my  right  hand  the  great  Omnipotent  540 

Gave,  as  a  mark  of  mercy  and  a  sign 

364 


ACT  ni. 

Of  His  love  and  affection  for  us  all. 

Doth  now  His  mind  and  heart  to  Adam  turn, 

And  doth  it  please  Him  now  to  set  mankind 

In  full  dominion  us  above — them  over 

Both  you  and  me  to  crown,  though  in  our  charge 

We  ne'er  grew  weary,  yet  what  remedy  ? 

Who  will  oppose  such  resolution  here  ? 

Had  He  to  Adam  given  an  equal  rank, 

A  nature  like  unto  the  Angel  world,  550 

It  were  supportable  for  all  the  sons 

Of  Heaven,  sprung  from  God's  lineage ;  now  let 

Them  be  displeased,  if  such  displeasure  be 

On  high  not  counted  as  a  stain.    However, 

There  is  a  danger  on  each  side — to  yield 

Through  fearfulness,  or  boldly  to  oppose* 

I  wish  that  your  resentment  He  forgive* 

Cuciferians: 

Lord  Stadtholder,  aye,  grasp  this  battle-axe. 
Protect  our  holy  Right.    We'll  follow  thee. 
We'll  follow  on.  Lead  thou  with  speedy  wings :  560 
We'll  perish,  or  triumphant  overcome. 

Euclfcr: 

That  breaks  our  oath  and  Gabriel's  command. 

36s 


LUCIFER. 

Cucifcrians: 

That  violates  God's  self,  sets  man  above* 

Eucifcr: 

Let  God  His  honor.  Throne,  and  majesty 
Himself  preserve. 

Eucifcrlans: 

Do  thou  preserve  thy  throne. 
As  pillars  we  will  stay  thee,  and  the  state 
Of  the  Angel  world  as  well.    Mankind  shall  never 
Our  crown,  the  crown  of  God,  tread  in  the  dust. 

EMCifer: 

Soon  shall  the  Field-marshal,  gfreat  Michael,  armed 
With  blessings  from  on  high,  'gainst  us  appear,  57° 
With  all  his  host.     His  army  'gainst  your  own — 
How  great  the  difference ! 

Eucifcrians: 

If  not  one  half. 
At  least  a  third  part  of  the  Spirits,  thou 
Shalt  sweep  with  thee,  when  thou  shalt  join  our 

side. 

366 


ACT  m. 

Cucifcr: 

Then  shall  we  venture  all,  out  favor  lost 
To  the  oppressors  of  your  lawful  Right. 

Cuciferians: 

Courage,  hope,  insult,  sorrow,  and  despair. 

Prudence  and  injury  and  vengeance  for 

Such  inequality,  not  otherwise 

Composed ;  all  this,  and  what  on  this  depends,    580 

Shall  nerve  our  arms  to  strike  the  blow. 

BclzebuD: 

Even  now 
The  Holy  Realm  is  in  our  power.     Whatever 
May  be  resolved,  our  weapons  shall  enforce. 
Our  arms  shall  soon  compel.     Once  place  us  here 
In  battle  rank,  and  they  who  waver  yet. 
Soon  toward  our  side  shall  lean. 

EttclTcr: 

I  trust  me,  then. 
This  violence  with  violence  to  oppose. 

BelzebuD: 

Mount,  then,  these  steps.     O  bravest  of  the  brave ! 

Lord  Stadtholder,  we  pray,  ascend  this  throne. 

That  thee  we  now  allegiance  may  swear.  590 

367 


LUCIFER. 

Cucifer: 

Prince  Belzebub,  bear  witness ;  also  ye, 

O  Lords  illustrious  ;  Apollion, 

Bear  witness  thou,  and  thou,  Prince  Belial  bold, 

That  I,  constrained  by  necessity 

And  by  compulsion,  shall  advance  this  cause. 

Thus  to  defend  God's  Realm  and  to  ward  off 

Our  own  impending  ruin, 

Bclzcbub: 

Then  bring  on 
Our  standard,  that  we  may,  beneath  its  folds. 
Swear  God  allegiance  and  our  Morning-star. 

Cuciferidns: 

We  swear  alike  by  God  and  Lucifer.  600 

BclzebuD: 

Now  bring  the  censers  on,  ye  faithful  hosts. 
Faithful  to  God.     Praise  Lucifer  with  bowl. 
Rich  with  perfume,  and  flaming  candle-sticks : 
Him  glorify  with  light  and  glow  and  torch. 
Extol  him  then  with  poem,  music,  song. 
Trumpet  and  pipe.     It  doth  behoove  us  now 
Him  with  such  pomp  and  splendor  to  attend : 

Raise,  then,  sonorous  lays  to  his  great  crown. 

368 


ACT  m. 

€l)oru$  of  Cuciferidns: 

Forward,  O  ye  hosts,  Lucifer's  minions ; 

Banners  wave !  «"> 

Marshal  now  your  bands,  spread  your  swift  pin- 
ions— 

On,  ye  brave ! 
Follow  your  God  where  his  drumbeats  command. 

Guard  well  your  Rights  and  Fatherland. 
Help  him  Michael  now  hurl  to  confusion. 

War,  your  mood ! 
Fightingf  'gainst  Heaven  for  Adam's  exclusion, 

And  his  brood ! 
Follow  this  hero  to  trumpet  and  drum. 

Protect  our  crown,  whatever  may  come.  620 
See,  oh !  sec  now  the  Morning-star  shining ! 

In  that  light 
Soon  shall  our  foe's  proud  flag  be  declining 

Into  night ! 
Now  in  triumph  we  crown  God  Lucifer : 

Come  worship  him ;  revere  his  star. 

€boru$  of  JltigeU; 

strophe. 
What  sad  surprises  waken. 

Since  Heaven's  civil  war 
Burst  with  divisive  jar ; 
And  blindly  hath  been  taken  630 

369 


LUCIFER. 

The  sword  for  mad  attempt ! 
Who  'mong  celestial  legions. 

Or  wins  or  falls,  exempt 
From  grief,  to  view  in  the  regions 

Of  joy  such  misery 
^Mong  their  fellows  and  their  brothers  j 

How  some,  overcome,  would  flee, 
While  in  exile  wander  others  ? 

O  sons  of  God  on  high. 

Where  errs  your  destiny  ?  ^v> 

Aiitistrophe. 

Alas !  where  now  those  erring 

Spirits  ?     What  sorcery 

From  their  dear  certainty 
Seduced  them,  vainly  luring 

Them  from  their  rank  and  state  ? 
Led  them  to  wicked  daring  ? 

Our  bliss  became  too  great. 
Too  wanton  for  our  bearing ; 

E'en  Heaven's  altitude 
The  Angels  were  outgrowing  ;  ^so 

And  then  came  Envy's  brood, 
Seeds  of  Rebellion  sowing 

In  the  peaceful  Fatherland. 

Who  cools  War's  lurid  brand  ? 

37° 


ACT  m. 


Epode. 

Doth  not  soon  some  power  transcenciing' 

War's  fierce  flames  in  bounds  enchain, 
What  will  unconsumed  remain  ? 

Treason's  horrors  are  impending  ; 
Fires  of  discord  shall  profane 
Heaven  and  Earth  and  sea  and  plain. 

Treason  seeks  her  justifying 

In  her  triumph ;  then  she  would 

God's  own  mandates  be  defying : 

Treason  knows  nor  God  nor  blood. 


660 


664 


371 


GABRIEL.     MICHAEL. 

Gabriel: 

HE  whole  of  Heaven  glows  with  the 
fierce  blaze 
Of  tumult  and  of  treachery.     I  now 
G)mmand  thee,  as  ambassador  from 
God, 
And  His  high  Throne,  to  rise  without  delay 
And  burn  out  with  a  glow  of  fire  and  zeal 
These  dark,  polluting  stains  in  God's  great  name. 
And  in  the  name  of  the  unstained  Heavens. 
Prince  Lucifer  defies  with  trump  and  drum. 

373 


LUCIFER. 
Has  Lucifer,  alas !  been  faithless  found  ? 

Qabriel: 

The  third  part  of  the  Heavens  swore  but  now      ^° 
The  standard  of  that  fickle  Morningf-star 
Their  firm  allegfiance,  perfumed  his  throne 
With  incense,  even  as  if  he  were  a  God  ; 
And  with  the  blasphemous  sounds  of  godless  music 
Him  praises  sang.     Now  hitherward  they  come, 
Thronging  with  mighty  hordes  that  threaten  all, 
How  terribly  I  to  burst  with  violence 
The  gate  that  leads  unto  the  armoury. 
A  crash  of  tempests  fierce  and  wild  doth  roar 
On  every  side.     The  lightnings  rage  and  rave.    2° 
The  thunders,  in  their  travail  laboring. 
Shake  even  the  ponderous  pillars  of  these  courts. 
We  hear  no  Seraphim,  nor  sounds  of  praise. 
Each  sits  apart,  enwrapped  in  voiceless  gloom. 
Now  hushed  at  once  are  all  the  Angel  choirs. 
And  then  again  they  cry  aloud  in  grief 
And  in  their  pity  o'er  this  blind  revolt 
Of  the  blessed  Angel  world,  and  o'er  the  fall 
Of  the  Angelic  race.     Aye,  'tis  full  time 
That  thou   perform   thy   charge,  that   thou  ob- 
serve 3° 

374 


"Each  sits  apart,  enwrapped  In  voiceless  gloom." 


''  ACT  IV. 

The  sacred  oath  that  thou,  as  Field-marshal, 
Didst  swear  upon  the  lightning^s  lurid  edge. 
By  God's  most  holy  name. 

mubael: 

What,  then,  doth  move 
God's  Stadtholder  thus  to  oppose  himself 
Against  God,  as  the  impious  head  and  chief 
Of  mad  conspirators  ? 

Gabriel: 

The  Heavens  know 
How  loth  I  am  to  make  in  such  a  way 
Defence  of  God's  most  righteous  cause.     But  oh ! 
How  terrible  the  wrath  laid  up  for  him ! 
For  we  can  find  no  means  by  which  to  lead         4° 
This  erring  race  of  blind  unfortunates 
Along  the  road,  the  high-road  of  their  faith. 
Myself  saw  there  the  radiant  joy  of  God 
Itself  o'ershadow  with  a  gathering  cloud 
Of  mournfulness,  until,  at  last.  His  wrath 
A  flame  enkindled  in  His  eyes  of  light, 
Ere  He,  to  ward  the  threatened  blow,  gave  charge 
Unto  this  expedition.     I  then  heard 
Awhile  the  plea,  how  there  in  equipoise 
God's  Mercy  stood  against  His  Righteousness,      50 
By  weight  of  reason  held.     I  saw,  too,  how 

377 


LUCIFER. 

The  Cherubim^  upon  their  faces  fallen. 

Cried  with  one  voice,  "  Oh  !  mercy,  mercy,  Lord  ; 

Not  justice  give/*     This  dire  dispute  had  thus 

Been  expiated,  yea,  almost  atoned, — 

So  much  seemed  God  to  mercy  then  inclined, 

And  reconciliation  ;  but  as  up 

The  smell  of  incense  rose,  the  smoke  beneath 

To  Lucifer,  from  countless  censers  swungf, 

Amid  the  sounds  of  trump  and  choral  praise,        60 

The  Heavens  their  eyes  averted  from  such  sight 

And  such  idolatry,  accursed  of  God 

And  Spirit  and  all  the  Hierarchies  above  : 

Then  Mercy  took  its  flight.     Awake  to  arms  ! 

The  Godhead  summons  thee,  ere  the  tumult  us 

Surprise,  to  tame  by  thine  own  arm  these  fierce 

Behemoths  and  Leviathans,  who  thus 

Most  wickedly  conspire. 

micbael: 

Come,  Uriel,  squire ! 
Haste  speedily  and  bring  the  lightnings  here  ; 
Also  my  armor,  helm,  and  shield.     Then  bring  70 
God^s  banner  on,  and  blow  the  trumpet  bold. 
To   arms!   at   once,   to   arms!   ye  Thrones   and 
Powers, 

"Who,  true  and  faithful,  are  with  us  arrayed. 

378 


ACT  IV. 

Yc  legions,  on !  each  in  his  place.    The  Heavens 
Have  given  command.    Now  blow  the  trumpet 

bold 
And  beat  the  hollow  drum,  and  summon  here, 
In  haste,  the  countless  cohorts  of  the  armed. 
Blow,  then !    My  armor,  I  put  on ;  for  here 
God's  honor  is  concerned.    There's  no  retreat. 

Gabriel: 

This  armor  fits  thy  form  as  if  'twere  made  s» 

With  thee.     Behold  !  our  glorious  banner  comes. 
From  which   God's    name   and    ensign    grandly 

beam. 
While  yon  high  sun  doth  promise  thee  success. 
Here  come  the  chiefs,  to  greet  thee  as  the  head 
Of  the  celestial  legions  that  have  sworn 
God's  standard  to  uphold.    Take  courage,  then. 
Prince  Michael,  thou  shalt  battle  for  thy  God. 

micbacl: 

Aye !  aye !    Keep  thou  my  place  on  high.    We  go. 

Gabriel: 

Thy  march  we'll  follow  with  our  thoughts  and 
prayers. 

379 


LUCIFER. 

LUCIFER.     BELZEBUB.     LUCIFERIANS. 

tucifcr: 

How  holds  our  army  ?    How  is  it  inclined  ?         9° 

Belzcbub: 

The  army  longs^  prepared^  ^neath  thy  cx)mmandt 
To  plung:e  at  once  against  Michael's  armament, 

Cuciferuns: 

*Tis  true ;  each  waits  for  Lucifer's  command 
To  haste  at  once,  with  speedy  wings  and  arms, 
To  steal  away  from  our  great  enemy 
His  air  and  wind,  and,  as  he  lies  confused 
In  helpless  swoon,  to  chain  him  forcibly* 

Cucifer: 

How  many  strong  our  host  ?  "Wherein  our  strength? 

Belzebub: 

That  grows  apace  and  sweeps  on  toward  us  with 
A  rush  and  roar  from  every  firmament,  1°° 

Like  a  vast  sea  aglow  with  radiant  lights. 
Indeed,  a  third  part  of  the  Heavens  embrace 
Our  side,  if  not  the  half ;  for  Michael's  tide, 
On  every  hand,  each  moment  swiftly  ebbs* 


ACT  IV. 

The  half,  even  of  the  watch  and  of  the  chiefs 
That  round  the  palace  guard — of  every  rank. 
Of  every  Hierarchy  some — have  forsworn 
Their  lord,  Prince  Michael,  even  as  we.     Behold 
Archangels,  Cherubim,  and  Seraphim 
Our  standards  bearing.     Even  Paradise,  "« 

Made  mournful  by  the  sounds  of  woe,  grows  dim 
In  hue,  and  its  bright  verdure  fades.    Wherever 
The  eye  doth  look,  there  seem  signs  of  decay ; 
And  up  above  a  threatening  thunder-cloud 
Doth  seem  to  hang.    This  portent  bodes  our  bliss. 
We  need  but  to  begin.     Already  doth 
The  crown  of  Heaven  rest  upon  thy  brow. 

Ettclfcr: 

That  sound  doth  please  me  more  than  Gabriels 

trump. 
Attend  and  listen,  ye,  beneath  this  throne  ; 
Attend,  ye  chiefs ;  attend,  ye  valiant  knights,      12° 
And  hear  our  charge,  in  words  both  clear  and 

brief. 
Ye  know  how  far  in  our  revengeful  course. 
Against  the  Ruler  of  the  palaces 
Supreme,  we  have  advanced  :  so  that  it  were 
For  us  but  folly  to  retreat  with  hope 

Of  reconciliation  ;  how  none  dares 

381 


LUCIFER. 

To  think  to  purify,  through  mercy,  this 
Our  stain  indelible :  necessity 
Must  therefore  be  our  law,  a  stronghold  sure, 
From  which  there  is  no  wavering  nor  retreat.     130 
Defend  ye  then,  neVr  looking  back,  with  all 
Your  might,  this  standard  and  my  star :  in  brief 
The  free-created  state  all  Angels  own. 
Let  things  proceed  however  they  will,  press  on 
With  heart  undaunted  and  with  cheerfulness. 
Not  even  the  Omnipotence  on  high  hath  power 
Completely  to  annihilate  the  being 
That  ye  have  once,  for  all  eternity, 
Received.    In  case  ye  fiercely  shall  attack 
With  your  whole  force,  and  pierce  with  violence 
The  heart  of  your  great  foe,  and  chance  to  win : 
So  shall  the  hated  tyranny  of  Heaven 
Into  a  state  of  freedom  then  be  changed. 
And  Adam^s  son  and  seed,  crowned  us  above 
In  honor,  with  a  retinue  of  Earth 
Around,  shall  not  then  chain  your  necks  unto 
The  fetters  of  a  slavish  bondage  that 
Would  make  you  sweat  for  him  and  pant  beneath 
The  brazen  yoke  of  servitude  forever. 
If  now  ye  own  me  as  the  head  and  chief  ^so 

Of  your  free  state,  even  as  just  now  ye  swore 
With  one  full  voice  beneath  this  standard  bright, 

382 


140 


ACT  IV. 

So  raise  that  binding  oath  again  together, 
That  we  may  hear ;  and  swear  allegiance 
■      And  loyalty  unto  our  morning-star. 

Cuciferians: 

We  swear  alike  by  God  and  Lucifer. 

But  see  how  Rafael  with  the  branch  of  peace, 

Astounded  and  compassionate,  flies  down 

To  clasp  thy  neck,  with  hope  of  peace  and  truce. 

RAFAEL.     LUCIFER. 

Kafacl: 

Oh !  Stadtholder,  Voice  of  the  Power  Divine,      '^o 
"What  thus  hath  driven  thee  beyond  the  path 
Of  duty  ?     Wouldst  thou  now  thyself  oppose 
To  Him,  the  source  of  all  thy  pomp  ?     Wouldst 

thou 
Now  rashly  waver,  and  thus  change  thy  faith? 
I  hope  this  ne^er  shall  be.     Alas  I  I  faint 
With  grief,  and  hang  upon  thy  neck  oppressed 
And  wan. 

Euclfer: 

Most  righteous  Rafael  I 

38i 


LUCIFER. 

Rafael: 

O  my  joy, 
My  longfing,  hear  me  now,  I  pray. 

Eucifer: 

Speak  on, 
So  long  it  pleaseth  thee. 

Rafael: 

O  Lucifer, 
Be  merciful !     Oh  I  save  thyself ;  nor  bear  170 

Thy  weapons  thus  'gainst  me,  who  sadly  melt 
In  tears,  and  pine  in  sorrow  for  thy  sake. 
I  come  with  medicine  and  mercy's  balm, 
Sprung  from  the  bosom  of  the  Deity, 
Who,  as  within  His  Council  He  decreed. 
Hath  made  thee  chief  of  myriad  crowned  Powers, 
And  thee,  anointed,  placed  upon  thy  throne 
As  Stadtholder.    What  folly  this,  that  thus 
Deprives  thee  of  thy  wit  ?     God  hath  His  seal 
And  image  stamped  upon  thy  hallowed  head      >8o 
And  forehead,  where  all  beauty  seemed  outpoured. 
With  wisdom  and  benevolence  and  all 
That  flows  in  streams  unbounded  from  the  fount 
Of  every  precious  thing.     In  Paradise, 
Before  the  countenance  of  God's  own  sun. 
Thou  shon'st  from  clouds  of  dew  and  roses  fresh ; 

384 


ACT  rv. 

Thy  festal  robes  stood  stiff  with  pearl,  turquoise, 
And  diamond,  ruby,  emerald,  and  fine  gold  ; 
Twas  thy  right  hand  the  weightiest  sceptre  held ; 
And  as  soon  as  thou  didst  mount  into  the  light,  iq:> 
Throughout  the  blazing  firmament  and  through 
These  shining  vaults  the  sounds  began  to  roll 
Of  trumpet  and  of  drum.     And  wouldst  thou  now 
So  rashly  hurl  thyself  from  thy  great  throne  ? 
— Thus  jeopardize  thy  glory,  all  this  pomp  ? 
Wouldst   thou  thy  splendors    that   the  Heavens 

adorn 
And  that  obscure  our  glow  so  heedlessly 
Now  cause  to  change  into  a  shapeless  lump 
And  complication  of  all  beasts  and  monsters 
In  one,  with  claw  of  griffin,  dragon^s  head,         200 
And  other  horrors  terrible  ?     And  shall 
The  eyes  of  Heaven,  the  stars,  see  thee  so  low. 
Deprived  of  all  thy  power,  thy  honor,  worth. 
And  majesty,  through  perjuring  thine  oath  ? 
Prevent  it,  O  good  God,  whose  countenance. 
Amid  the  Blessed  Light,  I  gaze  upon. 
Where  we,  the  hallowed  Seven,  do  Him  serve. 
Before  His  Throne,  and  shake  and  tremble  ^neath 
That  Majesty  that  on  our  forehead  beams, 
That  quickens,  and  that  life  doth  give  to  all       21° 

That  live  and  breathe.     Lord  Stadtholder,  let  now 

3S5 


LUCIFER. 

My  prayers  affect  thy  heart.     Thou  know'st  my  dL 

pure  " 

Intent,  and  heart  distressed  for  thee.     Tear  off  i 

That  shining:  crest  so  proud,  that  armor  toss 
Aside.     The  battle-axe  cast  from  this  hand. 
Thy  shield  then  from  the  other :  nay,  not  thus. 
Not  higher.     Oh !  throv/  it  now  aside,  I  pray. 
Oh  I  cast  it  down.    Let  fall  thy  streaming  standard 
Of  thine  own  free  will,  also  thine  outstretched 

wings, 
Before  God  and  His  splendor,  ere  He  shall  220 

Fro  11  out  His  Throne,  the  highest  firmament 
Of  iiOnor,  swoop  to  grind  thee  into  dust : 
Yea,  so  that  of  the  race  of  Spirits,  nor  branch 
Nor  root,  nor  life  nor  even  memory, 
Remain  ;  unless  it  be  a  state  of  woe. 
Of  pain,  of  death  and  of  despair,  the  worm 
Endless  remorse,  and  a  gnashing  dire  of  teeth 
Should  bear  the  name  of  life.     Submit  thou,  then. 
Cease  this  attempt.     I  offer  thee  God^s  grace. 
Even  with  this  olive-branch.     Accept,  or  else 
'Twill  be  too  late. 

Ettcifer: 

Lord  Rafael,  I  nor  threat 

Nor  wrath  deserve.    My  heroes  both  by  God 

3S6 


230 


4° 


ACT  IV. 

And  Lucifer  have  sworn,  and  under  oaths 

To  Heaven  have  raised  this  standard  thus  aloft* 

Let  rumors,  therefore,  far  and  wide  be  spread 

Throughout  the  Heavens  :  I  battle  under  God 

For  the  defence  of  these  His  choristers, 

And  for  the  Charter  and  the  Rights  which  were 

Their  lawful  heritage  ere  Adam  saw 

The  rising  sun  :  yea,  ere  o^er  Paradise  ^ 

The  daylight  shone.     No  human  power,  no  yoke 

Of  man,  shall  plague  the  necks  of  Spirits,  nor 

shall 
The  Angel  world,  like  any  servile  slave. 
Support  the  throne  of  Adam  with  its  neck. 
Unfettered  now,  unless  in  some  abyss 
The  Heavens  shall  bury  us,  together  with 
The  sceptres,  crowns,  and  splendors  that  to  us 
The  Godhead  from  His  bosom  gave,  for  time 
And  for  eternity  !    Let  burst  what  will, 
I  shall  maintain  the  holy  Right,  compelled  250 

By  high  necessity,  thus  urged  at  length. 
Though  much  against  my  willp  by  the  complaints 
And   mournful  groans   of   myriad   tongues.     Go 

hence. 
This  message  bear  unto  the  Father,  whom 
I  serve,  and  under  whom  I  thus  unfurl 

This  warlike  standard  for  our  Fatherland* 

387 


LUCIFER. 

Rafael: 

O  Stadtholder,  why  thus  disgfuisc  thy  thoughts 
Before  the  all-seeing  Eye  ?     Thy  purpose  thou 
Canst  not  conceal.   The  rays  flashed  from  His  face 
Lay  bare  the  darkness,  the  ambition  that  260 

Thy  pregnant  spirit  reveals  in  all  its  shape* 
And  lo !  even  now  its  travail  hath  begun 
This  monster  to  bring  forth.     Where  shall  I  hide 
Me  in  my  fright  ?     How  rise  my  hairs  with  fear  I 
Thou  erring  Morning-star,  oh !  spare  thyself ! 
Thou  canst  not  satisfy  Omniscience 
With  such  deceit. 

Euclfcr: 

Ambition  ?     Say  me,  then, 
Where  hath  my  duty  suffered  through  neglect  ? 

Kafael: 

What  hast  thou  in  thy  heart  of  hearts  resolved ! — 
**  I  shall  mount  up  from  here  beneath,  through  all  270 
The  clouds,  aye,  even  above  God^s  galaxies. 
Into  the  top  of  Heaven,  like  unto  God 
Himself ;  nor  shall  the  beams  of  mercy  fall 
On  any  Power,  unless  before  my  seat 
It  kneel  in  homage  down !     No  majesty 

Shall  sceptre  dare,  nor  crown,  unless  I  shall 

388 


Thou  erring  Morning-star,  oh  I  euare  thyself." 


i 


ACT  IV. 

First  grant  it  leave  out  of  my  towering-  throne  I** 
Oh !  hide  thy  face.    Fall  down  and  fold  thy  wings. 
Have  care  to  know  a  higher  Power  above. 

Cucifer: 

How  now  ?   Am  I  not  then  God's  Stadtholder  ?    ^so 

Rafael: 

That  art  thou,  and  from  the  unbounded  Realm 
Thou  didst  receive  a  power  determinate. 
Thou  rulest  in  His  name. 

Cucifcr: 

Alas!  how  long? 
Until  Prince  Adam  shall  make  us  ashamed  i 
When  he,  placed  oVr  the  Angel  world,  shall  from 
The  bounteous  bosom  of  the  Deity 
His  crown  receive,  and  take  his  seat  by  God. 

Rafael: 

Even  though  the  sovran  Lord  should  thus  divide 
His  power  with  His  inferiors  ;  though  He  should 
Command  that  man  upon  his  head  shall  place    290 
The  brightest  crown ;  him  consecrate  the  Chief 
Of  Spirits,  o'er  all  that  crown  or  sceptre  bear, 
Or  e'er  shall  bear  :  learn  thou  submissively 

To  bow  'neath  God's  decree. 

391 


LUCIFER. 

Cucifer: 

That  is  the  stone 
Whereon  this  battle-axe  shall  whet  its  edge* 

Rafael: 

Thou'lt  whet  it  rashly  for  thine  own  proud  neck. 
Think  where  we  are.     The  Heavens  can  bear  no 

stain 
Of  pride,  hate,  envy,  or  malevolence. 
The  wrath  of  Deity  doth  threaten  soon 
To  wipe  this  blot  away.     Here  not  avails  3°° 

Dissembling.     Oh !  that  I  this  blasphemy 
Could  hide  from  the  all-seeing  Sun  and  from 
The  all-penetrating  Eye.     O  Lucifer, 
Where  is  thy  glory  now  ? 

Euclfcr: 

My  glory  was 
Long  since  to  Adam  given,  and  to  his  seed* 
I  am  no  longer  called  the  eldest  heir. 
The  son  first  consecrate. 

Rafael: 

Prince  Lucifer, 
Oh  I  spare  thyself  :  submit  unto  the  wish 
Of  the  Most  High.     Oh  !  deem  us  worthy  now 
To  bear  such  joyful  tidings  up  above.  3«> 

Each  waits  with  longing  eyes  for  my  return* 

392 


I 


ACT  IV. 

Before  thy  splendor  I  most  humbly  kneel. 

Oh  !  for  the  sake  of  God,  bev/are  lest  thou 

Encouragement  shalt  give  to  mutiny, 

That  on  thy  will  and  word  doth  henceforth  turn, 

As  on  its  axis.     Wouldst  thou  thus,  against 

The  courts  of  Heaven,  this  air  so  full  of  peace 

And  holiness,  for  the  first  time  disturb 

By  the  clash  of  countless  warring  myriads  ? — 

Thus  to  the  sound  of  trump  and  drum  unfurl     320 

These  battle-banners  bold  ? — Thyself  to  God 

The  matchless  wrestler  thus  oppose  ? 


Cucifer: 


'Tis  we 


That  are  opposed.    Were  unto  Adam's  race 

But  given  a  rank  and  throne,  even  similar 

To  that  the  Angels  own,  'twere  to  be  borne. 

Now  fly,  instead,  o'er  all  the  roofs  of  Heaven 

The  sparks  blown  from  this  burning  in  the  skies. 

Peace !  Angels  all,  and  reverentially 

Your  homage  bring,  for  all  that  you  possess. 

To  Adam  and  his  seed.     To  strive  'gainst  man  33° 

Is  the  Godhead  to  oppose  !     Oh  !  how  could  God, 

Within  His  heart,  so  low,  so  deep  degrade 

Him  whom  He  for  the  mightiest  sceptre  formed : 

A  worthiness  once  sanctified  to  rule, 

393 


LUCIFER. 

So  sadly  thus  abase  for  one  so  low, 

And  thus  disrobe  of  all  its  splendid  pomp, 

And  cause  it  thus  to  curse  the  glorious  dawn 

Of  its  ascent — to  wish  far  rather  that 

It  had  remained  a  shadow  without  hue, 

A  nothing  without  life  ?     For  not  to  be  340 

Is  better  thousand  times  than  such  a  fall. 

Rafael: 

A  vassal's  power  is  no  inheritance : 
It  stands  free  and  apart. 

Cucifer; 

This  power  is  then 
No  boon,  if  power  it  may  be  called. 

Rafael: 

Thy  place 
Maintain  :  or  hast  thou  then  forgot  thy  charge  ? 
Thy  place,  as  Stadtholder,  to  thee  was  given 
That  in  thy  wisdom  thou  mightst  keep  all  things 
In  peace  and  order  here.    And  dost  thou  now. 
The  perjured  chief  of  blind  conspirators. 
Put  on  this  coat  of  mail  to  fight  thy  God  ?  35° 

Cucifer: 

Necessity  and  self-defence  compelled 

These  arms ;  nor  wished  we  to  engage  with  God* 

394 


ACT  IV. 

Reason  would  speak,  even  though  our  arms  were 

dumb. 
"We  fight  in  Freedom's  cause,  denied  this  bliss  ? 

Rafael: 

No  bliss  is  glorious,  where  in  one  realm 

The  embattled  squadrons  of  the  state  must  fight 

Against  their  peers.     Most  pitiful  it  is, 

"When  brothers  of  the  selfsame  order  must, 

At  last,  even  by  their  brothers  be  overcome. 

Oh  !  Stadtholder,  for  our  sake,  and  for  fear        360 

Of  God  and  of  His  threatened  punishment. 

Send  hence  thy  gathered  legions,  send  them  hence. 

Oh  I  melt,  I  pray,  beneath  my  prayers.     I  hear, 

'Tis  terrible  I  the  chains  a-forging  now. 

That  thee  shall  drag,  when  vanquished  and  bound, 

In  triumph   through   the   skies.      And   hark!    I 

hear 
A  din,  and  see  the  hosts  of  Michael  draw 
"With  nearing  tread.    'Tis  time,  yea,  'tis  high  time. 
Thou  cease  this  mad  attempt. 

"What  profits  it 
Even  though  unto  the  utmost  I  repent  ?  37° 

Here  is  no  hope  of  grace. 


395 


LUCIFER. 

Rafael: 

But  I  assure 
Thee  mercy ;  for  I  now  appoint  myself 
Thy  mediator  up  above  and  as 
Thy  hostage  there* 

£ucifcr: 

My  star  to  plunge  in  shame 
And  darkness :  yea,  to  see  my  enemies 
Defiant  on  my  throne  ? 

Rafael: 

O  Lucifer, 
Beware !    I  sec  the  lake  of  brimstone  down 
Below,  with  opened  mouth,  gape  horribly. 
Shalt  thou,  the  fairest  far  of  all  things  ever 
By  God  created,  henceforth  serve  as  food  380 

For  the  devouring  bowels  of  Hell's  abyss — 
Flames    never    satisfied    nor    quenched?      May 

God 
Forbid  !     Oh !  oh !  yield  to  our  prayers.    Receive 
This  branch  of  peace :  we  offer  thee  God's  grace. 

Ettclfer: 

What  creature  else  so  wretched  is  as  I  ? 
On  the  one  side  flicker  feeble  rays  of  hope, 

396 


ACT  IV. 

"While  on  the  other  yawns  a  flaming  horror. 

A  triumph  is  most  dubious ;  defeat 

Most  hard  to  shun.     In  such  uncertainty, 

God  and  His  banner  to  oppose  ? — the  first  39° 

To  be  a  standard  to  unfurl  Against  God, 

His  trump  celestial  and  revealed  command  ? 

— Of  rebels  thus  to  make  myself  the  chief, 

And  'gainst  the  law  of  Heaven  another  law 

To  oppose  ? — to  fall  into  the  dreadful  curse 

Of  a  most  base  ingratitude  ? — to  wound 

The  mercy,  love,  and  majesty  of  Him, 

The  Father  bountiful,  source  of  all  good 

That  e'er  was  given  or  may  yet  be  received  ? 

How  have  I  erred  so  far  from  duty's  path  ?         400 

I  have  abjured  my  Maker :  how  can  I 

Before  that  Light  disguise  my  blasphemy 

And  wickedness  ?     Retreat  availeth  not. 

Nay,  I  have  gone  too  far.     "What  remedy  ? 

"What  best  to  do  amid  this  hopelessness  ? 

The    time    brooks    no    delay.      One    moment's 

time 
Is  not  enough,  if  time  it  may  be  called. 
This  brevity  'twixt  bliss  and  endless  doom. 
But  'tis  too  late.     No  cleansing  for  my  stain 
Is  here.     All  hope  is  past,     "What  remedy  ? 
Hark  I  there  I  hear  God's  trumpet  blow  without. 

397 


410 


LUCIFER. 

APOLLION.     LUCIFER.     RAFAEL. 

JlpOlliOll: 

Lord  Stadtholder,  awake !  not  now  the  time 
For  loitering.    God's  Marshal  Michael  nears, 
With  all  his  stars  and  legions,  and  defies 
Thee  in  the  open  field.    The  time  demands 
That  thou  array  for  battle.     Come,  advance ! 
Advance  with  us :  we  see  the  battle  won. 

CMclfcr: 

Won  }    Ah !  that  is  too  soon  :  'tis  not  commenced. 
The  heavy  bolt  of  war  should  not  be  weighed 
Too  lightly. 

JlpOlliOtt: 

I  saw  even  in  Michael's  face  420 

The  hue  of  fright,  while  all  his  legions  pale 
Looked  backwards.    Ah!   we  long,  O  doubt   it 

not, 
To  humble  and  destroy  them.     Lo  !  here  come 
The  various  chieftains  with  our  streaming  stan- 
dard. 

Ewcifcr: 

Each  in  his  rank !     Let  each  his  banner  ward. 

Now  let  the  trump  and  bugle  boldly  blow. 

398 


ACT  IV. 

Jlpollion: 

We  wait  upon  thy  word. 

Cucifcr: 

Then  follow  on. 
As  I  this  signal  give. 

Rafael: 

Alas !  but  now 
He  stood  in  doubt  suspended  :  now,  despair 
Incites  him  on.     In  what  calamities,  430 

Alas !  shall  soon  the  proud  Archangel  plunge 
His  followers  ?     Now  may  he  nevermore 
In  joy  appear  on  high  unless  God  shall 
In  His  compassion  this  prevent.     Oh !  come, 
Ye  Heavenly  choristers,  and  breathe  your  prayers. 
It  may  be  that  your  supplications,  rising. 
May  yet  avert  this  dire,  impending  blow : 
Oft  prayer  can  break  a  heart  of  adamant. 

CHORUS    OF   ANGELS.     RAFAEL. 

Cftorus: 

O  Father,  who  no  incense,  gold. 


Or  hymnal  praise  dost  dearer  hold 

399 


440 


LUCIFER. 

Than  the  tranquil  trust  and  soul-reposingf    . 
Calmness  of  him  who  humbly  heeds 
Thy  word^  and  where  Thy  spirit  leads 

Doth  leave  himself  in  Thy  disposing  : 
Thou  seest,  O  Author  of  us  all, 
Our  Spirit-Chief  his  banners  tall 

'Gainst  Thee  so  wickedly  unfurling ; 

And  how,  'mid  roar  of  trump  and  drum, 
On  battle-chariot  he  doth  come, 

So  blind,  and  fierce  defiance  hurling !  450 

Ah  !  heed  not  their  wild  blasphemy. 
And  save  from  endless  misery 

The  thousand  thousand  ones  deluded, 
Who,  weak,  and  woefully  misled 
By  their  proud  and  rebellious  head. 

Are  'mong  his  legions  now  included, 

Rafael: 

Spare  in  Thy  mercy,  spare,  ah !  spare 
The  Stadtholder,  who  now  would  wear 

Thy  crown  of  crowns,  who,  deifying 

Himself,  would  triumph  over  all :  460 

From    such    foul    stain,    oh !    where    else 
shall 

The  cleansing  come,  him  purifying  ? 

400 


I 


ACT  IV. 


Cftorus: 

Oh !  suffer  not  that  soul  to  die, 
The  fairest  e'er  seen  by  Thine  eye-. 

Oh !  keep  the  Archang^el  e'er  in  Heaven ; 
Let  him  atone  this  impious  deed, 
And  still  retain  his  rank,  we  plead ; 

Let  not  his  guilt  be  unforgiven. 


468 


401 


RAFAEL.     URIEL. 


Rafael: 


HE  whole   of   Heaven^  from  base   to 
topmost  cfown 
Of  her  chief  palaces,  resounds  with 

As  Michaels  trumpets  blow  and  banners  wave. 
The  field  is  won.     Our  shields  shine  splendidly^ 
Shaping  new  suns.    From  every  shield-sun  streams 
A  day  triumphant  forth.     Lo  I  from  the  fight. 
See,  Uriel  proud,  the  armor-bearer,  comes ; 
And  waves  the  flaming,  keen,  two-edged  sword. 


403 


LUCIFER. 

That^  whet  with  Heaven^s  wrath  and  vengeance, 

flashed, 
Amid   the   fray,   through   shield   and    mail   and 

helm  lo 

Of  diamond,  left  and  right,  through  all  that  dared 
Oppose  the  all-piercing  Power,  Omnipotence. 
O  armor-bearer,  most  austere,  who  art 
The  executioner  on  high,  and  dost 
With  one  strong,  righteous  stroke  compose  the 

Wrong 
That  would  rebel  against  eternal  Right, 
Blest  be  thy  sword  and  arm,  that  thus  maintain 
And  guard  the  honor  of  our  Angel  Realm. 
What  praise  reserved  for  thee  by  Majesty 
Supreme !    Oh !  pray  relate  to  us  the  strife :        2° 
Unfold  to  us  the  management  of  this, 
The  first  campaign  in  Heaven.    We  listen,  then, 
In  expectation  rapt. 

Uriel: 

Your  wish  inflames 
My  spirit  to  begin,  this  fearful  fray 
In  calmness  to  describe,  with  sequence  just. 
Success  the  army  crowns  that  fights  with  God. 
The  Field-marshal,  great  Michael  (being  warned 

By  the  envoy  of  Heaven,  who  from  above 

404 


ACT  V. 

Flew  downward,  downward  swifter  than  a  star 
That   shoots    athwart  the   sky,  with  the  tidings 

how,  3° 

Against  the  hig^h  decree  proud  Lucifer 
Himself  so  openly  opposed,  prepared 
To  lead  his  incense-swingingf  worshippers — 
All  who  his  standard  and  his  morning-star 
Had  sworn  their  bold  allegiance),  quickly  donned, 
At  Gabriels  report — that  Herald  true — 
His  scaly  coat  of  mail,  and  with  firm  voice 
He  forthwith  then  gave  charge  to  all  his  chiefs. 
His  captains,  lords,  and  officers  to  place. 
In  the  name  of  God,  the  troops  in  battle  rank,     4° 
That,  with  united  forces  and  with  all 
Their  strength,  they  might  sweep  from  the  airy 

vast 
Of  purest  crystalline  this  perjured  scum : 
To  cast  in  darkness  all  those  Spirits  vile, 
Ere  unawares  they  us  surprise.     Upon 
This  charge  the  legions  rapidly  deployed 
Themselves  in  battle-line,  as  speedily 
As  flies  the  nimble  arrow  from  the  bow. 
We  saw  there  countless  throngs  together  swarm 
In  bright  array  and  glowing  martial  pomp,  50 

Until  they  formed,  in  serried  rank,  one  firm 

Trilateral  host  that,  like  a  triangle, 

405 


LUCIFER. 

Thrust  out  its  edg:es  sharp  upon  the  eye. 
We  saw  a  solid  mass,  like  one  dense  light, 
Three-pointed,  polished  mirror-smooth,  even  like 
To  diamond,  and  a  battle-front  advance 
By  God  more  than  by  Spirit  understood. 
The  Field-marshal  towered  in  the  army^s  heart, 
Full-faced  before  God's  banner,  with  the  glow 
Of  lurid  lightnings  in  his  lifted  hand.  60 

Who  courage  would  preserve, — would  victory 
And  triumph  e'er  attain,— should  first  have  care 
To  make  sure  of  and  then  to  gain  the  heart. 

Rafael: 

But  where  the  host  accursed  that  us  would  storm  ? 

Uriel: 

It  came  into  the  field  of  daring  full 

With  all  its  primal  faith,  obedience. 

Honor,  and  oath,  and  what  besides,  forgot 

In  this  base  and  presumptuous  attempt 

'Gainst  God,  despite  our  prayers.    It  swiftly  waxed, 

And  pointed  like  a  crescent  moon  its  ends.  70 

It  sharpened  both  its  points,  and  these,  even  like 

Two  horns,  closed  in  upon  us,  as  amid 

The  Zodiac  the  Bull  doth  threaten  with 

His  golden  horns  the  other  animals 

406 


ACT  V. 

Celestial  and  the  monsters  that  tevolve 
Around*     Upon  the  right  horn  there  advanced 
Prince  Belzebub,  whose  purpose  was  to  clip 
Our  spreading  wings^  and  also  to  keep  guard. 
The  left  horn  to  Prince  Belial  was  assigned. 
Thus  both  stood  there  in  shining  panoply,  so 

Vying  in  splendors  grand.     The  Stadtholder, 
Now  Field-marshal  'gainst  God,  the  centre  held 
Of  this  array,  that  he  might  guard  the  key, — 
The  point  strategic  of  the  legions  there. 
The  lofty  standard,  from  whose  morning-star 
The  day  did  seem  to  stream,  Apollion 
Behind  him  bore,  as  bravely  as  he  could. 
In  his  full  glory  seated  high  to  view. 

Kdfael: 

Alas!  what  dares — what  dares   the  great   Arch- 
angel 
Attempt  ?     Oh  !  if  I  only  could  in  time  90 

Have  brought  him  to  desist.     However,  now 
Describe  to  me  the  aspect  of  their  march. 
And  with  what  show  the  Prince  his  legions  led. 

Uriel: 

Surrounded  by  his  staff  and  retinue 

In  green,  he,  wickedly  impelled  by  hate 

407 


LUCIFER. 

Irreconcilable,  in  golden  mail, 
That  brightly  shone  upon  his  martial  vest 
Of  glowing  purple,  mounted  then  his  car, 
Whose  golden  wheels  with  rubies  were  emblazed* 
The  lion  and  the  dragon  fell,  prepared  loo 

For  speedy  flight,  with  backs  sown  full  of  stars 
And  to  the  chariot  joined  by  pearly  traces, 
Panted  for  strife,  and  for  destruction  flamed. 
Within  his  hand  a  battle-axe  he  bore. 
And  from  his  left  arm  hung  a  glimmering  shield. 
Wherein  his  morning-star  was  artfully 
Embossed ;  thus  stood  he  poised  to  venture  all, 

Rafael: 

O  Lucifer,  thou  shalt  this  pride  repent. 

Thou  phoenix  'mongst  God's  worshippers  on  high. 

How  grand  thou  dost  appear  amid  thy  legions,  "o 

With  helm,  head,  neck,  and  shoulders  eminent ! 

How  gloriously  thine  armor  thee  becomes. 

As  if  by  nature  fitted  to  thy  form  ! 

Oh  I  Chief  of  Spirits,  no  farther  go  ;  turn  back. 

Uriel: 

Confronted  thus  they  stood  embattled,  troop 

By  troop,  each  in  his  air  and  station  placed, 

408 


ACT  V. 

All  ranked  by  files  'neath  their  respective  chiefs. 

Both  sides  arrayed  with  fairest  pomp  to  view. 

When  furious  drum  and  clarion  trumpet  sound, 

Their  medley  resonance  nerves  every  arm  "° 

And  sharpens  every  sword ;  and  mounts  on  high 

Into  the  firmament  of  the  holy  Light 

Supreme,  a  din  whereat  a  pregnant  cloud 

Of  darts  doth  burst  with  pealing  thunder-showers 

Of  fiery  hail,  a  storm  and  tempest  fierce. 

That  makes  afraid  the  very  Heaven  and  shakes 

The  pillars  of  its  palaces.     The  stars 

And    spheres,   perplexed,    from    their    appointed 

paths 

And  orbits  err,  or  on  their  circled  watch 

Bewildered  stand,  not  knowing  where  to  turn  :  130 

Or  East  or  West,  or  upwards  or  below. 

All  that  is  seen  is  lightning  flash  and  flame ; 

All  that  is  heard  is  thunder.    What  remains 

In  its  primeval  place  ?     That  which  was  once 

The  highest  now  becomes  the  thing  most  low. 

The  squadrons,  when  the  deep-vibrating  shock 

Of  their  artillery's  first  volleyed  roar 

Has  died  away,  now  struggle  hand  to  hand 

With  halberd,  sabre,  dagger,  club,  and  spear. 

All    stab    and  slash,  that  can.    All  formed   by 

nature  '■*° 

409 


LUCIFER. 

For  fell  destruction  and  for  greedy  spoil  i 

Now  haste  to  strike  the  violating  blow. 
All  thoughts  of  kin  and  brotherhood  have  ceased  j 
Nor  knoweth  any  one  his  fellow  more* 
Above  are  whirling,  like  a  cloud  of  dust, 
Proud  crests  of  pearl  with  curled  locks  of  hair, 
And  plumes  and  wings  refulgent  with  a  gleam 
Drawn  from  the  singeing  lightning's  glow.    Be- 
hold! 
In  rich  confusion  mingled,  blue  turquoise. 
With  gold  and  diamond,  necklaces  of  pearl,         15° 
And  all  that  can  adorn  the  hair  or  head. 
Wings  lopped  in  twain,  and  broken  arrows,  whirl 
Athwart  the  sky.    A  horrid  battle-cry 
Rises  from  out  the  cohorts  clad  in  green : 
Their  regiments,  in  danger,  are  compelled 
By  our  hot  onset  to  retreat.    Three  times 
The  maddened  Lucifer  the  fight  renews. 
And  proudly  stays  his  faltering  followers. 
Even  as  a  rock  beats  back  the  ocean  surge 
That,  wave  on  wave,  with  foaming  rage  assails  '6«- 
In  vain  attempt. 

Rafael: 

Indeed,  'tis  something  this : 

To  fight,  armed  by  despair. 

410 


ACT  V. 

Uriel: 

Tten  straightway  caused 
The  valiant  Michael  all  the  trumps  to  sound  : 
**  Glory  to  God  !  **    His  legions,  thus  made  bold 
By  this  their  watchword,  and  by  his  command, 
Begin  by  circling  wheels  to  soar  aloft, 
To  gain  the  wind-side  of  their  battling  foe. 
Who  also  rises,  but  with  heavier  sail. 
And  finally  to  leeward  slowly  drifts : 
As  if  one  heavenward  a  falcon  saw,  170 

Mounting  with  pinions  bold  into  the  sky. 
Ere  that  the  drowsing  herons  are  aware. 
Who  in  a  wood,  hard  by  a  pleasant  mead. 
Tremble  with  fright,  when  from  their  lofty  nest 
They  see  their  dreaded  foe.     The  heron  cries. 
And,  fearful  of  the  falcon^s  direful  claw. 
Awaits  him  on  his  beak,  thus  to  impale 
His  enemy's  soft  breast  from  there  beneath. 
When  swoops  the  falcon  with  unerring  wings 
Upon  his  prey. 

Rafael: 

O  Lucifer,  for  thee  iSo 

What  remedy  ?     It  seems  most  terrible ! 
Now  art  thou  in  the  open  field,  where  port 
Nor  wall  defend.    A  horrid  whirlwind  soon 

4" 


LUCIFER. 

Shall  suddenly  swoop  down  and  bury  thee 
Deep  in  some  gulf  and  bottomless  abyss* 

Uriel: 

What  fair  perspective  it  was,  thus  to  view 

A  hemisphere  or  crescent  moon  beneath, 

And  up  above  a  point  trilateral : 

To  see  the  legions,  that  upon  the  word 

Of  their  commanding  chiefs  close  in  their  ranks,  190 

Or  them  deploy,  in  their  battalions  stand 

As  firm  as  walls  of  iron,  as  if  they, 

With  all  their  ordnance,  dumb  artillery. 

And  martial  engines,  there  in  equipoise 

Were   placed,  full-weighted  'gainst  the  balanced 

air ! 
They  hang  suspended  like  a  silent  cloud, 
A  cloud  whereon  the  sun  doth  pour  his  beams. 
And  which  he  paints  with  shade  and  varied  hue 
And  airy  rainbows.     So  then,  steeply  flown 
Aloft,  the  bold  celestial  eagle  sees  2°° 

God's  foe,  the  hawk,  circling  his  flight  beneath. 
He  strikes  his  wings  together  valiantly  ; 
But  brooks  awhile  the  hawk's  wild  wheeling  there. 
And  vain  defiance,  while  he  flames  ere  long 
To  swoop  upon  his  feathered  back  and  pluck 

His  glossy  plumes :  when,  in  the  aery  vast, 

412 


ACT  V. 

With  ciitvld  beak  and  talons  he  shall  seize 
His  prey,  or  drive  it,  with  the  wind  behind, 
Far  from  his  eyes.    Thus  they  precipitate 
Themselves,  and  stream  down  from  their  place  on 

high, 
Even  like  some  inland  lake,  or  waterfall. 
In  some  far,  Northern  wild,  that  from  the  cliffs 
Dashes  with  thundering  resonance  that  frights 
The  beasts  and  monsters  in  deep-hidden  dells ; 
Where  from  the  precipice,  rocks,  loosened,  fall, 
With  massive  torrents  and  uprooted  trees 
In  countless  numbers,  that  in  their  fierce  plunge 
Crush  and  destroy  all  that  the  violence 
Of  stream  and  stone  and  wood  cannot  withstand. 
The  point  of  the  advancing  column  strikes  "» 

The  crescent^s  centre  with  assault  most  fell 
Of  brimstone,   ted   and  blue,   and   flames,  with 

stroke 
On  stroke  and  quick-succeeding  thunderbolts. 
A  piercing  cry  ascends.     Their  army^s  heart. 
Endangered,  now  begins,  by  slow  degrees. 
To  fail  support  of  the  accursed  one. 
The  half-moon^s  bow,  beneath  the  strain,  begins 
To  crack  and  break  (for  the  ends  together  curve) ; 
So  that  they  who  the  centre  hold,  must  yield 
Before  that  onset  fierce,  and  flee,  if  soon  230 

413 


LUCIFER. 

Deliverance  be  not  brought  from  their  distress. 

Prince  Lucifer^  swift-driven  here  and  there. 

Approaches  at  this  cry,  and  fearlessly 

Himself  exposes  on  his  car,  to  show 

His  valor  in  this  crisis  dire.     This  gives 

New  heart  unto  the  faltering  ones.    Then,  from 

The  foaming  bit  of  his  now  furious  team, 

He  wards  the  fellest  blows  and  fiercest  strokes. 

The  lion  and  the  dragon  blue,  enraged, 

Leap  forward  at  his  word  with  fearful  strides :    240 

One  bellows,  bites,  and  rends,  while  poison  shoots 

Out  from  the  other's  forked  tongue,  who  thus 

A  pest  provokes,  and,  raving,  fills  the  air 

With  smoke  blown  from  his  nostrils  far  and  wide. 

Rafael: 

Now  will  the  burning  strike  him  from  on  high  ? 

Uriel: 

He  waves  his  battle-axe  aloft  to  fell 

God's  banner,  that,  descending,  darts  the  beams 

And  fairer  radiance  of  God's  name  into 

His  glowing  face.     Oh !  think  what  envy  then 

Him  filled,  to  see  this  portent  on  our  side.  250 

With  battle-axe  in  hand,  now  here,  now  there. 

He  parries  every  stroke,  or  breaks  their  force 

414 


ACT  V. 

Upon  his  shield,  till  Michael  comes  before 
Him,  clad  in  glitteringf  armor,  like  a  God 
Amid  a  ring-  of  suns  :  "  Cease,  Lucifer  ; 
Give  God  the  victory.     Lay  down  your  arms 
And  standard ;  yield  to  God.     Come,  lead  away 
This  wicked  crew,  this  impious  horde.     Or  else. 
Beware  thy  head !  **     Thus  shouts  he  from  on 

high. 
The  Grand  Foe  of  God^s  name,  stiff-necked,  un- 
moved, 260 
And  more  defiant  at  these  words,  renews 
The  fight  with  haste  precipitate,  and  thrice 
"With  war-axe  strives  to  cleave  the  diamond  shield 
"Where  glowed  God's  holy  name.     But  who  pro- 
vokes 
The  Deity  shall  feel  His  wrath.     The  axe 
The  holy  diamond  strikes,  but  lo  !  rebounds. 
And  shivers  into  fragments.     Then  aloft 
His  right  hand    Michael  lifts,  and  through  the 

helm 
And  head  of  that  rebellious  one  he  smites. 
Helped  by  the  great  Omnipotent,  his  lightnings,  270 
Cleaving  unto  his  eyes  with  violence 
So  great  that  he  falls  backward,  and  is  hurled 
Down  from  his  chariot,  that  forthwith  follows 

Him,  whirling  round  and  round  in  its  descent  % 

415 


LUCIFER. 

Thws  lion,  dragon,  driver,  all  plunge  down. 

The  standard  of  the  Star  doth  cease  to  shine, 

"When  feels  Apollion  my  flaming  sword. 

Whereon  his  banner,  straightway,  he  doth  leave 

As  plunder  in  my  hands ;  while  in  fierce  swarms 

Tumultuous  their  warring  myriads  280 

Attempt,  in  vain,  to  stay  the  falling  Chief 

Of  all  the  hosts  infernal,  and  to  save 

Him  from  this  fate  and  great  calamity. 

Here  fights  Prince  Belzebub,  and  there  opposed 

Stands  Belial.    Thus  their  squadrons  are  confused  : 

And  with  the  Stadtholder^s  important  fall 

The  crescent's  bow  soon  into  shivers  breaks. 

Then  comes  Apollion  into  the  field. 

With  all  the  monsters  from  the  firmament. 

The  giant  Orion  shrieks,  until  the  sound  29° 

The  very  air  makes  faint ;  then  with  his  club 

He  strives  to  crush  the  head  of  our  assault. 

That,  heedless  of  Orion  or  his  club. 

Moves  grandly  on.    The  Northern  Bears  rear  back 

Upon  their  haunches,  that  their  brutish  strength 

May  blindly  us  oppose.    The  Hydra  gapes 

With  fifty  throats,  that  vomit  poison  forth, 

I  view  a  gallery  of  battle-scenes. 

All  happening  in  the  fray,  as  far  as  eye 

Can  see. 

416 


Thus  lion,  b'ragon,  driver,  all  plunge  down." 


II 


ACT  V. 

Kafael: 

Praise  be  to  God  !     Upon  your  knees  300 
Fall  down  and  worship  Him  !     O  Lucifer^ 
Ah  I  where  now  is  that  fickle  confidence  ? 
In  what  strang;e  shape  shall  I,  alas  !  behold 
Thee  soon  ?    Where  now  are  thy  proud  splendors, 

that 
All  other  pomp  so  easily  outshone  ? 

Uriel: 

Even  as  bright  day  to  gloomy  night  is  changed, 

Whenever  the  sun  forgets  his  golden  glow, 

So  in  his  downward  fall  his  beauty  turned 

To  something  monstrous  and  most  horrible : 

Into  a  brutish  snout  his  face,  that  shone  310 

So  glorious ;  his  teeth  into  large  fangs. 

Sharpened  for  gnawing  steel ;  his  hands  and  feet 

Into  four  various  claws ;  into  a  hide 

Of  black  that  shining  skin  of  pearl ;  while  from 

His  bristled  back  two  dragon  wings  did  sprout. 

Alas !  the  proud  Archangel,  whom  but  now 

All  Angels  honored  here,  hath  changed  his  shape 

Into  a  hideous  medley  of  seven  beasts. 

As  outwardly  appears :  A  lion  proud  ; 

A  greedy,  gluttonous  swine ;  a  slothful  ass  ;         3^0 

A  fierce  rhinoceros,  with  rage  inflamed  ; 

419 


LUCIFER. 

An  ape,  in  every  part  obscene  and  vile, 

By  nature  lewd  and  most  lascivious  ; 

A  dragon,  full  of  envy  ;  and  a  wolf 

Of  sordid  avarice.     His  beauteous  form 

Is  now  a  monster  execrable,  by  God 

And  Spirit  and  man  e'er  to  be  cursed.     That  beast 

Doth  shrink  to  view  its  own  deformity. 

And  veils  with  darklingf  mists  its  Gorgon  face. 

Thus  shall  Ambition  learn  how  vain  to  tilt         330 
For  God's  own  crown.     Where  stayed  Apollion  ? 

ilrici: 

He  saw  his  tide  ebb  when  his  star  declined. 
And  fled  :  so  fled  they  all.    Then,  from  above. 
The  celestial  ordnance  pours  forth  shot  on  shot. 
With  lightning  flash  and  rolling  thunders  loud, 
Causing  the  monsters  that  into  the  light 
Have  crawled  to  sv/ell  the  rout ;  and  pleased  are 

all, 
With  God's  array,  to  aid  in  such  pursuit ! 
O !  what  a  whirl  of  storms  in  one  resolved ! 
And  what  a  noisy  tumult  rises  round  !  34° 

What  floods  sweep  by !    Our  legions,  blessed  by 

God, 


420 


ACT  V. 

Advance,  and  strike  and  crush  whatever  they  meet. 
"What  cries  of  pain  now  burst  forth  everywhere. 
As  from  the  fleeing  hordes  one  hears,  amid 
This  wild  confusion  and  this  change  of  form 
In  limbs  and  shapes,  their  roars  and  bellowings. 
Some  yell,  and  others  howl.    What  fearful  frowns 
Those  Angel  faces  wear,  the  mirrors  dread 
Of  Heirs  infernal  horrors.     Hark  I  I  hear 
Michael  return,  triumphant,  to  display,  350 

Here  in  the  light,  the  spoil  from  Angels  reft. 
The  choristers  now  greet  him  with  their  songs 
Of  praise,  with  sound  of  cymbal,  pipe,  and  drum. 
They  come  in  front,  and  strew  their  laurel  leaves 
^Mid  those  celestial  harmonies  around. 

CHORUS    OF    ANGELS.     MICHAEL. 

Hail  I  to  the  hero,  hail ! 

"Who  the  wicked  did  assail ; 
And  in  the  fight,  o'er  his  might  and  his  standard. 

Triumphant  did  prevail. 

Who  strove  for  God's  own  crown,  3&» 

From  his  high  and  splendid  throne. 
Into  night,  with  his  might,  hath  been  driven. 

How  dazzling  God's  renown  ! 


421 


LUCIFER. 

Though  flames  the  tumult  fell. 

The  valiant  Michael 
With  his  hand  the  fierce  brand  can  extinguish : 

All  mutiny  shall  quell. 

God^s  banner  he  doth  rear  : 

Come^  wreathe  his  brow  austere* 
Now^  in  peace,  shall  increase  Heaven^s  Palace:  370 

No  discord  now  we  hear. 

Then  to  the  Godhead  raise. 

In  His  deathless  courts,  your  praise. 
Glory  bring  to  the  King  of  all  Kingdoms  : 

His  deeds  inspire  our  lays. 

Klicbdel: 

Praise  be  to  God  I    The  state  of  things  above 

Has  changed.    Our  Grand  Foe  has  met  his  defeat ; 

And  in  cur  hands  he  leaves  his  standard,  helm. 

And  morning-star,  and  shield  and  banners  bold. 

Which  spoil,  gained  in  pursuit,  even  now  doth 

hang,  380 

'Mid  joys  triumphant,  honors,  songs  of  praise. 

And  sounds  of  trump,  on  Heaven's  axis  bright, 

The  mirror  clear  of  all  rebelliousness. 

Of  all  ambition  that  would  rear  its  crest 

'Gainst  God,  the  stem  immovable — grand  fount. 

Prime  source,  and  Father  of  all  things  that  are, 

422 


ACT  V. 

Which  from  His  hand  their  nature  did  receive. 
And  various  attributes.     No  more  shall  we 
Behold  the  glow  of  Majesty  Supreme 
Dimmed  by  the  damp  of  base  ingratitude.  390 

There,  deep  beneath   our  sight   and   these   high 

thrones, 
They  wander  through  the  air  and  restlessly 
Move  to  and  fro,  all  blind  and  overcast 
"With  shrouding  clouds,  and  horribly  deformed. 
Thus  is  his  fate,  who  would  assail  God's  Throne. 

Chorus: 

Thus  is  his  fate,  who  would  assail  God's  Throne. 
Thus  is  his  fate,  who  would,  through  envy,  man. 
In  God's  own  image  made,  deprive  of  light. 

GABRIEL.     MICHAEL.     CHORUS. 

Gabriel: 

Alas !  alas !  alas  !  how  things  have  changed  I 
Why  triumph  here  ?     Our  triumph  is  in  vain :  400 
Ah  !  vain  display,  these  plundered  flags  and  arms ! 

micbdel: 

What  hear  I,  Gabriel? 

423 


,    LUCIFER. 

Gabriel: 

Oh  !  Adam's  fallen : 
The  father  and  the  stem  of  all  mankind, 
Most  pitiful  and  sad !  brought  to  his  fall 
So  soon.     He  is  undone. 

micbacl: 

That  bursts  even  like 
A  sudden  thunder-peal  upon  our  ears. 
Although  I  shudder,  yet  I  long  to  hear 
This  overthrow  described.     Doth  then  the  Chief 
Accursed,  also  on  Earth  his  warfare  wage  ? 

Gabriel: 

The  battle  o'er,  he  called  his  scattered  host  41° 

Unto  his  side,  though  first  his  chieftains  bold, 
"Who  to  each  other  turned  abhorring  gaze ; 
And  then,  to  shun  the  swift,  all-searching  rays 
Of  the  all-seeing  Eye,  he  veiled  them  round 
With  gloomy  mists,  that  formed  a  hollow  cloud, 
A  dark,  obscure,  and  gruesome  lair  of  fog. 
Where  shone  no  light,  v/here  gleamed  no  glow  of 

fire 
Save  what  did  shine  from  their  own  blazing  eyes. 
And  in  that  dim,  infernal  consistory. 

High-seated  'mid  his  Councillors  of  State,  42° 

424 


ACT  V. 

With  bitter  r agfe  'gainst  God  he  thus  began : 
"Ye  Powers,  who  for  our  righteous  cause  have 

borne, 
With  such  fierce  pride,  this  injury,  'tis  time 
To  be  revenged  for  our  wrongs  :  with  hate 
Irreconcilable  and  furious  craft 
The  Heavens  to  persecute  and  circumvent 
In  their  own  chosen  image,  man,  and  him 
To  smother  at  his  birth,  in  his  ascent. 
Ere  that  his  sinews  gain  their  promised  strength 
And  ere  he  multiply.     'Tis  my  design,  430 

Both  Adam  and  his  seed  now  to  corrupt. 
I  know  how,  through  transgression  of  the  law 
Him  first  enjoined,  to  stain  him  with  a  blot 
Indelible ;  so  that  he  with  his  seed, 
In  soul  and  body  poisoned,  never  shall 
Usurp    the    throne   from    which    ourselves   were 

thrust : 
Though  it  may  be  that  some  shall  yet  ascend 
On  high,  a  number  small  and  slight ;  and  these 
Alone  through  thousand  deaths  and  suffering 
And  labor  shall  attain  the  state  and  crown  440 

To  us  denied.     Lo  !  miseries  forthwith 
Shall  follow  aft  in  Adam's  wake,  and  spread. 
From  age  to   age,  throughout   the   whole   wide 

world. 

425 


LUCIFER. 

Even  Nature  shall,  attainted  by  this  blow, 

Almost  decay,  and  wish  again  to  turn 

To  chaos  and  its  primal  nothingness. 

I  see  mankind,  in  God^s  own  image  made, 

From  God's  similitude  debased,  estranged. 

And  tarnished,  even  in  will  and  memory 

And  understanding,  while  the  holy  light  45° 

Within  created  is  obscured  and  dimmed : 

Yea,  all  yet  in  their  mother's  anxious  womb, 

That  wait  with  sorrow  for  their  natal  hour, 

I  now,  forsooth,  behold  a  helpless  prey 

To  Death's  relentless  jaws.     I  shall  exalt 

My  tyranny  with  e'er-increasing  pride, 

While  you,  my  sons,  I  then  shall  sec  adored 

As  Deities,  on  altars  and  in  fanes 

Innumerable  that  tower  to  Heaven,  where  burns 

The  sacrificial  victim,  'mid  the  smoke  460 

Of  censers  and  the  dazzling  sheen  of  gold. 

In  praise  most  reverential.     I  see  hosts 

Of  men,  whose  multitudes  are  even  beyond 

The   power  of  tongue   to   name — yea,   all  that 

spring 
From  Adam's  loins— for  all  eternity 
Accursed  by  their  deeds  abominable. 
Done  in  defiance  of  God's  name.     So  dear 

To  Him  the  cost  of  triumph  o'er  my  crown<' 

426 


J 


470 


ACT  V. 

micbaci: 

Accursed  one^  even  yet  to  be  so  bold 

In  thy  defiance  'gainst  thy  God  !    Ere  long 

Thou  shalt  from  us  this  blasphemy  unlearn, 

Gabriel: 

Even  thus  spake  Lucifer,  and  then  he  sent 
Prince  Belial  down,  that  he  forthwith  might  cause 
Mankind  to  fall :  who  took  upon  himself 
The  form  of  that  most  cunning  of  all  beasts. 
The  Serpent,  type  of  wickedness  itself. 
That  he  might  with  a  gloss  of  words  adorn 
His  luring  snares,  which  then  those  creatures  pure 
In  guileless  innocence  even  thus  received. 
As,  swinging  from  the  tempting  bough  of  knowl- 
edge, 480 
That  lone  forbidden  tree,  he  hung  aloft : 
**  Hath  God,  upon  the  pain  of  death,  with  such 
Severity  and  at  so  high  a  price. 
Deprived  you  of  the  freedom  of  this  fruit  ? 
— The  taste  of  even  the  choicest  tree  of  all  ? 
Nay,  Eve,  thou  simple  dove,  indeed  thou  dost 
Mistake,    But  once  behold  this  apple,  pray ! 
Aye  I  see  how  glows  this  radiant  fruit  with  gold 
And  crimson  mingled  !     An  alluring  feast  I 

Yea,  daughter,  nearer  draw  ;  no  venom  lurks     49° 

427 


LUCIFER. 

In  this  immortal  leaf.  How  tempts  this  fruit ! 
Yea,  pluck  ;  yea,  freely  pluck :  I  promise  thee 
All  light  and  knowledge.    Come,  why  shouldst 

thou  shrink 
For  fear  of  sin  ?     Aye,  taste,  and  thus  become 
Equal  to  God  Himself  in  cognizance. 
Honor  and  wisdom,  truth  and  majesty  : 
Even  though  He  much  may  wish  thee  to  deny. 
Thus  must  distinctions  be  discerned  in  things, 
Their  nature,  entities,  and  qualities.*' 
Forthwith  begins  the  heart  of  the  fair  bride         i  <> 
To  burn  and  to  enkindle,  till  she  flames 
To  see  the  praised  fruit,  which  first  allures 
The  eye :  the  eye  the  mouth,  that  sighs  to  taste* 
Desire  doth  urge  the  hand,  all  quivering. 
To  pluck.    And  thus  she  plucks,  and  tastes  and  eats 
(Oh !  how  this  shall  afflict  her  progeny  !) 
With  Adam,  and  as  soon  as  then  their  eyes 
Are  opened  and  they  see  their  nakedness. 
They  deck  themselves  with  leaves — with  leaves  of 

figt 
Their  shame,  disgrace,  and  taint  original- 
And  in  the  trees  and  shadows  hide  themselves ; 
But  hide  in  vain  from  the  all-piercing  Eye. 
Then  gradually  the  sky  grows  black.    They  see 

The  rainbow,  as  a  warning  messenger 

428 


510 


—     Nor  wringing  hands, 
NPr  sad  lament,  nor  cries  avail  the  pair." 


ACT  V. 

And  portent  of  God^s  plagues,  stretched  o^er  the 

Heavens, 
That   weep,   in    mourning   clad.     Nor   wringing 

hands. 
Nor  sad  lament,  nor  cries  avail  the  pair. 
Alas !  the  lightnings  gleam,  with  flash  on  flash. 
And  shaking  thunders  roll  there,  peal  on  peal. 
And  naught  is  heard  but  sighs,  and  naught  is 

seen  52° 

But  fright  and  gloom.    They  even  their  shadows 

flee; 
But  ne'er  can  'scape  that  dread  heart-cankering 

worm. 
The  sting  of  conscience.     Thus,  with  knees  that 

knock 
Together,  step  by  step  they  stumble  on. 
Their  faces  ghastly  pale,  and  eyes,  o'er-brimmed 
With  tears,  blind  to  the  light.     How  spiritless. 
They  who  but  now  their  heads  so  proudly  held ! 
The  sound  of  rustling  leaf  or  whispering  brook. 
The  faintest  noise,  doth  them  confound  ;  the  while 
A  pregnant  cloud  descends,  that  bursts  and  bears,  5  ^ 
By  slow  degrees,  a  light  and  radiant  glow, 
Wherein  the  great  Supreme  appears  in  shape 
Impressive,  thundering  with  His  Voice,  that  fells 

Them  to  the  earth. 

431 


LUCIFER. 

€bortt$: 

Oh  !  oh  !  'twere  better  far, 
Had  mankind  ne'er  been  made.   This  teaches  them 
By  such  a  juicy  fruit  to  be  beguiled. 

Gabriel: 

**  O   Adam/'   thunders    God,  **  where    art    thou 

hid  ?  " 
'^  Forgive  me,  Lord  ;  I  flee  thy  countenance. 
Naked  and   all  ashamed."     **  Who   taught  thee 

thus," 
Asks  God,  *'  thy  shame  and  nakedness  to  know  ?  540 
Didst  dare  profane  thy  lips  with  the  forbidden 
Fruit  ?  "     "  Aye,  my  bride,   my   wife,  alas !  did 

tempt." 
She  says,  **  The  wily  Serpent  hath  deceived 
Me  with  this  lure."     Thus  each  the  charge  denies 
Of  being  the  cause  of  their  sad  wretchedness. 

€boru$: 

Mercy  !     What  penalty  hangs  o'er  their  crime  ? 

Gabriel: 

The  woman,  who  hath  Adam  thus  seduced, 
God  threatens  with  the  pains  of  tears  and  travail. 
And  her  subjection,  and  the  man  with  care 
And  labor,  sweat  and  arduous  slavery ;  550 

43? 


ACT  V. 

The  soil^  where  man^  at  last,  shall  find  his  gffave, 

With  noxious  weeds  and  great  calamities  ; 

The  Serpent,  for  the  sly  misuse  thus  made 

Of  his  most  subtle  tongue,  shall,  o^er  the  ground. 

Upon  his  belly  creep,  and  live  alone 

On  dust  and  earth.     But  as  a  comfort  sure. 

In  such  a  misery,  to  poor  mankind 

God  promises,  in  truth,  out  of  the  seed 

And  blood  of  the  first  woman,  to  raise  up 

The  Strong  One,  who  shall  crush  the  Serpent^s 

head,  56° 

This  Dragon  vile,  through  deadly  hate,  by  time 
Nor  yet  eternity  to  be  removed. 
And  though  this  raging  monster  make  attempt 
To  bite  His  heel,  yet  shall  the  Hero  win ; 
And   from   the    strife    shall    come   with    honors 

crowned. 
I  come,  in  the  name  of  Him,  the  Highest  One, 
To  thee  this  sad  disaster  to  reveal. 
Forthwith  all  things  in  wonted  order  place. 
Ere  they,  for  us,  shall  further  mischief  brew. 

micbacl: 

Come,  Uriel,  armor-bearer,  who  dost  guard  57° 

The  Right  divine  and  punishest  the  Wrong : 
Take  up  thy  flaming  sword :  fly  down  below, 

433 


LUCIFER. 

And  drive  the  twain  from  Eden,  who  have  dared 

Transgress,  so  rash  and  blind,  the  primal  law. 

Go,  guard  the  gate  of  the  Paradise  profaned. 

And  forcibly  the  exiles  drive  away 

From  this  rare  food,  this  tree,  prolonging  life. 

Permit  not  that  they  pluck  the  immortal  fruit, 

Nor  their  abuse  of  heavenly  gifts  allow. 

Thou  art  placed,  as  sentinel,  the  garden  over,     580 

And  o*ct  this  tree.     Then  see  that  Adam  shall 

Be  driven  out,  and  that  from  morn  to  eve 

He  plough  the  field,  and  till  the  clayey  ground 

From  which  the  breath  of  God  once  fashioned 

him. 
Ozias,  to  whose  hand  once  God  Himself 
With  honor  di6.  entrust  the  ponderous  hammer 
Of  bright-hewn  diamond  made,  also  the  chains 
Of  ruby  and  the  clamps  so  sharp  of  teeth, 
Go  hence,  and  capture  and  securely  bind 
The  host  of  the  infernal  animals,  590 

Also  the  lion  and  the  dragon  fell, 
That  furiously  against  our  standards  rage. 
Sweep  from  the  sky  these  hordes  accursed,  and 

bind 
Them  neck  and  claw,  and  chain  them  forcibly. 
This  key  of  the  black  bottomless  abyss 
And  all  its  dungeons  is  unto  your  care, 

434 


—    The  eternal  fir© 
Unquenchable,  with  cbilling  frosts  commingled." 


1 


ACT  V. 

Azarias,  enjoined.     Go  hence^  and  lock 

All  that  our  power  assail  within  those  vaults. 

Maceda,  take  this  torch,  to  you  this  flame 

Is  given :  go  light  the  deep  lake  sulphurous,       60° 

Down  in  the  centre  of  the  Earth,  and  there 

Torment  thou  Lucifer,  who  hath  brought  forth 

Such  numerous  horrors,  in  the  eternal  fire 

Unquenchable,  with  chilling  frosts  commingled  ; 

There  Grief  and  Horror  and  Obduracy, 

And  Hunger,  Thirst,  and  comfortless  Despair, 

The  sting  of  Conscience,  Wrath  implacable. 

The  punishments  given  for  this  mad  attempt. 

Amid  the  smoke  from  God's  deep  glow  concealed. 

Bear  witness  to  the  blasting-  curse  of  Heaven,      610 

Passed  on  this  Spirit  impious,  the  while 

Shall  come  the  promised  Seed,  the  Reconciler, 

Who  shall  appease  the  blazing  wrath  of  God, 

And  in  His  wondrous  love  to  man  restore 

All  that  by  Adam's  trespass  has  been  lost. 

£boru$: 

Deliverer,  who  thus  the  Serpent's  head 
Shalt  bruise,  and  who,  at  the  appointed  time, 
Shalt  fallen  mankind  cleanse  from  the  foul  taint 
Original,  from  Adam's  loins  derived ; 
And  who  again,  for  frail  Eve's  offspring,  shaft    e^o 

437 


LUCIFER. 


Ope  here,  or  h^gh,  a  fairer  Paradise, 

We  shall  with  longing;  tell  the  centuries 

Till  the  year,  day,  and  hour  when  shall  appear 

Thy  promised  Mercy,  which  its  pristine  bloom 

To  pining-  Nature  shall  restore,  and  place 

Upon  the  throne  whereout  the  Angels  fell 

The  souls  and  bodies  Thou  hast  glorified.  627 


« 


43a 


Cbe  Critical  €ult. 

"I  consider  your  version  of  the  Lucifer  the  most 
notable  literary  achievement  in  American  letters  in  the 
decade  from  1890  to  1900." — Richard  Watson  Gilder. 

"It  takes  a  master  to  translate  a  master,  and  the 
Lucifer  of  Leonard  Van  Noppen  is  a  re-creation  of  the 
original  work;  masterful,  comprehensive  and  in  every 
sense  a  finished  production.  Full  of  poetic  fire  and  the 
magic  of  the  fitting  word,  it  has  the  imprint  of  creative 
genius  in  every  line  and  is  weighted  with  the  per- 
sonality of  a  powerful  and  vivid  imagination." — Francis 
Grierson. 

"Leonard  Charles  Van  Noppen,  the  translator  of 
Vondel's  Lucifer,  is  a  poet  of  extraordinary  power  and 
beauty." — Edwin  Markham. 

Comparing  the  author  v/ith  George  Sterling,  says 
Mr.  Markham,  in  his  "California,  the  Wonderful."  "In 
recent  poetry  only  Mr.  Leonard  Van  Noppen's  verse  is 
kindred  in  lavish  word-work  and  ornate  architecture 
to  'The  Wine  of  Wizardry.'  Both  men  create  their 
poesies  with  large  movement  and  breadth  of  treatment 
— with  amplitude  of  sky  and  prodigiousness  of  field, 
with  wash  of  sunset  and  rainbow,  with  march  of  stars." 

"I  feel  glad  that  any  sparks  of  mine  have  served  to 
enkindle  the  cassia,  nard  and  frankincense  which  so 
prodigally  enrich  your  own  altar.  Continue,  now,  to 
feed  their  flames  with  all  those  resources  which  the 
translator  of  Vondel  showed  me  so  plainly  that  he 
possessed.  Take  up  your  own  creative  work  while  in 
your  prime,  and  in  the  end  you  will  gain  more  nobly 

439 


THE  CRITICAL  CULT. 

won,  though  none  more   royally  couched,  tributes  of 
speech  than  those  you  offer  me." — Edmund  C.  Stedman. 

"I  congratulate  you  upon  your  success  in  the  ac- 
complishment of  this  very  interesting  piece  of  work 
and  hope  that  it  will  meet  with  that  recognition  among 
scholars  which  it  deserves.  I  think  there  is  a  large 
future  for  the  writer." — Henry  Van  Dyke. 

"I  received  with  much  pleasure  your  Vondel's  Lucifer, 
and  as  I  read  it,  I  was  much  delighted.  It  is  a  pleasure 
to  read  the  English  version  of  this  work." — Josef  Israels. 

"I  am  much  indebted  to  you  for  the  gift  of  your  very 
handsome  translation  of  the  'Lucifer,'  and  I  am  not  a 
little  struck  by  the  evidence  of  literary  ability  spread 
over  all  parts  of  the  volume.  I  hope  your  spirited  and 
scholarly  enterprise  may  meet  to  the  full  with  the 
success  it   deserves." — Edmund  Gosse. 

"Worthy  the  genius  of  Vondel."— Dr.  Jan  Ten  Brink, 
Professor  of  Literature,  University  of  Leiden. 

"A  beautiful  book.  It  is  almost  like  discovering  a 
new  Homer." — Nathan  Haskell  Dole. 

"A  grand  yet  exquisite  work.  It  is  no  flattery  to 
say  that  the  issue  of  this  book  is  one  of  the  most 
notable  events  of  the  age,  yet  is  it  not  better  than 
praise  of  one's  effort  to  feel  its  significance  as  a  centre 
of  spreading  thought  and  inquiry!  To  think  that  you 
are  the  first  to  give  Vondel's  Lucifer  to  the  English 
reading  world!" — Mary  Mapes  Dodge. 

"I  was  reading  your  translation  of  Vondel  last  year, 
and  I  was  very  much  struck  with  the  resemblance  to 
Milton  in  form  and  spirit.  The  conception  of  the 
mental  attitude  of  the  fallen  angels  is  one  which  is 
certainly  very  interesting  from  a  psychological  as  well 
as  a  literary  point  of  view."— A.  Lawrence  Lowell. 

440 


THE  CRITICAL  CULT. 

"The  Lucifer  has  greatly  interested  me  as  a  revela- 
tion of  one  at  least  of  the  main  sources  from  which 
Milton  gained  his  ideas.  Your  preliminary  work  to  me 
seems  to  be  admirable,  and  you  have  certainly  rendered 
a  real  service  both  to  history  and  literature." — Andrew 
D.  White. 

"I  wish  to  thank  you  for  your  translation  of  Vondel's 
Lucifer.  Shall  I  confess  it?  It  was  long  ago  since  I 
read  that  great  poet,  and  your  work  afforded  me  all  the 
pleasure  of  an  original.  As  for  your  splendid  chapter, 
'Life  and  Times  of  Vondel,'  and  your  thorough  and 
searching  Lucifer's  Interpretation,  they  cannot  fail  to 
awaken  the  keenest  interest  in  the  English  speaking 
literary  world." — Baron  Gevers,  Minister  from  the 
Netherlands  to  Washington. 

"Mr.  Van  Noppen  is  a  man  of  great  literary  power, 
an  authority  in  Dutch  literature  and  is  achieving  fame 
as  a  translator  of  the  masterpieces  of  the  Dutch  lan- 
guage."— Edwin  A.  Alderman. 

"Your  book  duly  came  to  hand.  I  was  delighted 
to  see  the  extraordinary  attention  it  got  in  'Literature,' 
and  I  congratulate  you  on  the  wide  interest  it  has 
awakened." — W.  D.  Howells. 

"Many  thanks  for  your  curious  and  interesting  vol- 
ume, my  only  chance  of  making  acquaintance  with  the 
Batavian  author." — Andrew  Lang. 

"I  want  to  add  my  small  words  to  the  panegyric  and 
tell  you  with  what  intense  interest  and  pleasure  I  have 
followed  your  astonishing  success.  I  say  astonishing 
because  I  wonder  how  long  it  is  since  any  one  has  been 
able  to  stir  up  such  keen  and  general  interest  over  a 
classic  written  long  ago  and  in  a  foreign  tongue?  How 
long  ago  has  it  been  since  any  classic  was  so  much 

441 


THE  CRITICAL  CULT, 

talked  of?  When,  pray,  has  a  young  man  made  such 
a  contribution  to  English  letters  and  so  interested 
thinking  and  scholarly  people?" — Willa  Gather. 

"It  has  become  a  matter  of  literary  tradition,  in 
Holland  and  out  of  it,  that  the  choral  drama  of  'Lucifer* 
is  the  great  masterpiece  of  Dutch  literature.  *  *  *  An 
era  of  translation  was  sure  to  set  in,  and  it  is  a  matter 
of  significance  that  its  herald  has  even  now  appeared. 
The  translation  into  English  of  Vondel's  'Lucifer'  is  not 
only  in  and  for  itself  an  event  of  more  than  ordinary 
importance  in  literary  history,  but  it  cannot  fail  to 
waken  among  us  a  curiosity  as  to  what  else  of 
supreme  value  may  be  contained  in  Dutch  literture."— 
William  H.  Carpenter,  Professor  of  Germanic  Philology, 
Columbia  University. 

"We  heartily  rejoice  that  Vondel's  drama  has  been 
translated  into  English  by  an  American  for  Americans. 
Were  this  translation  an  inferior  one,  or  were  it  only 
mediocre,  we  should  have  no  reason  to  be  glad,  but 
in  this  case  it  is  otherwise.  Although  no  translation 
can  entirely  compensate  for  the  lack  of  the  original  it  is, 
however,  possible  for  the  original  to  be  followed  very 
closely.  This  is  well  shown  by  this  rendering,  which 
to  a  high  degree  possesses  the  merit  of  accuracy,  while, 
at  the  same  time,  the  spirit  and  the  character  of  Von- 
del's tragedy  are  felt,  understood  and  interpreted  in  a 
remarkable  manner.  Whoever  is  in  a  position,  by  the 
comparison  of  the  translation  with  the  original,  to  form 
an  individual  opinion  of  Van  Noppen's  superb  work, 
will  probably  be  convinced,  even  as  I  have  been,  that 
here  an  extraordinarily  difficult  task  has  been  magnifi- 
cently done." — G.  Kalff,  Professor  of  Dutch  Literature, 
University  of  Utrecht. 

"This  version  of  Vondel  bridges  the  gap  in  the 
Miltonic  Criticism." — Francis  B.  Gummere. 

44- 


THE  CRITICAL  CULT. 

"Much  Esteemed  Sir  and  Friend: 

The  distinguished  octogenarian  poet  and  author, 
Nicolaas  Beets,  of  Utrecht,  Holland,  wrote  to  Mr.  Van 
Noppen  as  follows: 

'Much  Esteemed  Sir  and  Friend: 

"*  *  *  J  have  furthermore  compared  your  trans- 
lation in  many  a  striking  passage  with  the  original, 
which  I  always  held  in  my  hand.  *  *  *  Whatever 
was  attainable  you  not  only  tried  to  reach  most  earn- 
estly, but  you  have  even  most  excellently  succeeded  in 
attaining.  You  have  absolutely  understood  and  per- 
fectly rendered  the  meaning,  the  action,  the  spirit  and 
the  power  of  the  sublime  original.  In  splendid  English 
verse  we  read  Vondel's  soul.  Whoever  knows  Vondel 
will  admit  this,  and  whoever  does  not  at  present  know 
him  will  learn  to  know  and  appreciate  him  from  your 
translation.  *  *  *  It  is  also  very  plain,  from  the 
essays  preceding  the  translation,  that  you  have  made  a 
most  thorough  and  comprehensive  study  of  Vondel  and 
of  his  poetry  in  connection  with  the  entire  field  of  the 
literature  and  history  of  his  time.  Though  having 
myself  read,  and  even  written,  in  prose  as  well  as  poetry, 
so  much  concerning  Vondel,  I  was  often  so  impressed 
by  criticisms  and  observations  in  your  essays  that  I 
felt  impelled  to  revise  and  complete  my  own  con- 
ceptions." 

Cbc  Jlmcrican  Press. 

"Mr.  Van  Noppen  has  produced  a  text  which,  so 
far  as  mere  suppleness  and  naturalness  go,  might  be 
taken  for  an  original  production,  and  his  editorial 
labors  have  been  considerable." — New  York  Tribune. 

"There  is  reason  enough  for  the  publication  in  English 

443 


f 


THE  AMERICAN  PRESS. 

of  such  a  classic  as  the  Lucifer,  and  it  is  fortunate  that 
the  work  could  be  so  artistically  done." — Review  of 
Reviews. 

"To  compare  the  two  poems — Milton's  Paradise  Lost 
and  Vondel's  Lucifer — is  as  if  one  should  contrast  a 
great  chorale  by  Bach  or  Mendelssohn  with  a  magnifi- 
cent hymn-tune  by  Sir  Arthur  Sullivan  or  William 
Henry  Monk.  The  epic  and  the  drama  are  both  tri- 
umphs of  skill.  Why  make  comparisons?  Rather  let 
the  world  rejoice  in  two  such  possessions." — Phila- 
delphia Record. 

"It  is  particularly  fortunate  that  the  first  English 
rendering  of  the  great  poem  is  so  ably  and  conscien- 
tiously done.  *  *  *  Finally,  the  poem  is  illustrated 
by  fifteen  drawings  in  black  and  white  by  the  famous 
Dutch  artist,  John  Aarts,  which  are  printed  with  the 
text." — The  Bookseller,  Newsdealer  and  Stationer. 

"If  only  as  a  literary,  or  as  a  human  document, 
shedding  light  upon  the  methods  of  the  greatest  of 
English  epic  poets,  Mr.  Van  Noppen's  work  would  be 
of  infinite  value  to  all  students.  But  the  book  which  he 
has  translated  possesses,  besides  these  adventitious 
claims  to  respect,  a  supreme  intrinsic  value.  It  is  a 
drama  that  is  everywhere  great,  and  in  passages 
sublime.  *  *  *  That  the  present  translation  is  a  good 
one  he  who  reads  can  discern.  It  is  strong,  nervous, 
and  rhythmical.  It  is,  above  all,  good  English,  not  a 
Teutonized  hybrid." — New  York  Herald. 

Mr.  Van  Noppen's  translation  is  spirited  and  digni- 
fied, and  there  is  a  distinct  lyric  charm,  which  he  has 
managed  to  preserve — a  rare  feat  with  a  translator." — 
Charleston  News  and  Courier. 

"For  the  reader  who  desires  merely  the  artistic  com- 
ment of  the   pictures   that  thoroughly   illustrate   this 

444 


THE  AMERICAN  PRESS. 

famous  old  poem  we  might  add  that  Mr.  Aarts  has 
caught  the  spirit — the  pictorial  beauty — of  Lucifer  as 
perhaps  no  other  artist  of  the  day  could  have  done. 
The  man  himself  is  a  poet,  and  he  has  translated  into 
these  drawings  the  majestic  tragedy  of  Lucifer  even  as 
Mr.  Van  Noppen  has  translated  it  into  stately  English 
verse." — Brooklyn  Citizen. 

"Literary  societies,  university  extension  circles,  and 
reading  clubs  are  all  here  furnished  with  a  fresh  winter 
theme  whose  stages  are  already  plotted  out  for  the 
worker." — Philadelphia  Inquirer. 

"Vondel's  Lucifer  is  one  of  the  most  important  con- 
tributions ever  made  to  the  catholic  literature  of  the 
English-speaking  world.  *  *  *  As  a  specimen  of  book- 
making  the  volume  is  a  model." — St.  Louis  Church 
Progress. 

"We  may  consider  Mr.  Van  Noppen's  translation  as  a 
key  that  has  unlocked  a  literary  treasure  and  put  within 
our  reach  a  classic  of  Teutonic  literature." — Detroit  Free 
Press. 

"The  English-speaking  literary  world  is  under  great 
obligations  to  the  translator  and  publisher  of  this 
uniquely  printed,  illustrated,  and  bound  volume." — Rich- 
mond Dispatch. 

"The  present  rendering  of  Lucifer  is  by  Leonard  C. 
Van  Noppen,  who  has  made  a  translation  which  will 
link  his  name  with  that  of  the  master  as  Edward  Fitz- 
gerald has  bound  his  up  with  that  of  Omar  Khayyam." — 
Buffalo  News. 

"A  most  meritorious  translation  of  the  Dutch  poet's 
sublime  tragedy,  with  a  great  deal  of  critical  and  bio- 
graphical matter  in  the  introductory  sections." — Phila- 
delphia Press. 

445 


THE  AMERICAN  PRESS. 

"This  careful  translation  of  the  great  masterpiece  of 
Dutch  literature  is  one  of  the  important  books  of  the 
year." — Chicago  Tribune. 

"As  Lucifer  is  the  greatest  work  of  the  Dutch  poet's, 
the  fine  translation  and  its  elegant  setting  in  the  beauti- 
ful book  is  most  gratifying."— Chicago  Inter-Ocean. 

"The  translation  is  as  literal  as  it  can  be  made,  and 
the  sonorous  tongue  of  its  original  author  is  heard 
through  it  all"— Chicago  Times-Herald. 

"The  translation  is  ^n  earnest  and  faithful  rendering 
of  the  poet's  ideas,  and  the  verse  is  technically  excellent; 
in  fact,  the  translation  may  bid  for  the  exalted  place  of 
the  original  in  many  libraries." — Times-Union,  Albany. 

"The  stately  sweep  of  the  original  verse  has  not  been 
lost  in  the  transference  from  one  tongue  to  another. 
Mr.  Van  Noppen  has,  in  addition  to  his  translation  of 
the  poem,  furnished  a  sympathetic  and  interesting 
memoir  of  the  Life  and  Times  of  Vondel,  and  an 
elaborate,  critical  and  scholarly  Interpretation  of  the 
Lucifer." — Brooklyn  Times. 

"This  delightfully  printed  book  is  a  real  work  of  art, 
and  is  a  worthy  contribution  to  the  history  of  liter- 
ature."— Boston  Globe. 

"Leonard  Charles  Van  Noppen,  the  translator,  has 
given  to  English  literature  another  great  classic." — 
Dramatic  Magazine,  Chicago. 

"It  is  a  very  interesting  event  that  we  have  Vondel's 
Lucifer  in  a  scholarly,  an  accurate,  and  an  admirable 
rendering  into  English." — Wilmington  (N,  C.)  Mes- 
senger. 

446 


THE  AMERICAN  PRESS. 

"If  we  were  asked  to  give  our  opinion  of  this  version 
we  should  express  it  in  one  word — 'masterly.'  The 
powers  of  expression  and  the  richness  of  Vondel's 
thought,  together  with  the  rhythmical  beauty  of  the 
poem,  have  been  preserved  in  full.  It  is  a  masterpiece, 
and  should  have  a  place  in  every  library." — De  Grond- 
wet  (Dutch  paper),  Holland,  Mich. 

"In  the  essay  on  Vondel's  Life  and  Times  we  have  a 
singularly  able  and  deeply  interesting  account  of  the 
conditions  under  which  Vondel  developed.  *  *  *  For 
the  poem  itself,  like  many  more  of  the  writings  of 
Vondel,  it  has  been  recognized  as  a  classic.  Nobody  can 
read  it  and  not  feel  the  sublimity  of  the  inspiration  that 
produced  it." — San  Francisco  Chronicle. 

"The  whole  thing  is  new  and  interesting — introduc- 
tion, biography  and  poem.  It  opens  up  Dutch  liter- 
ature, the  society  of  the  Eglantine,  a  social  field  of  poets 
and  writers." — Baltimore  Sun. 

"Translator,  artist  and  publishers  are  to  be  highly 
commended  for  the  handsome  and  satisfactory  manner 
in  which  they  have  combined  to  present  this  celebrated 
Dutch  classic  to  American  readers." — New  Orleans 
Times-Democrat. 

"The  translator  is  Leonard  Charles  Van  Noppen, 
and  he  is  a  poet  himself  in  English.  This  intel- 
lectual and  temperamental  tendency  enabled  him  to 
make  a  literal  rendering  that  is  not  only  highly  accurate, 
but  that  also  most  admirably  conserves  the  spirit  of  the 
original.  The  book  is  beautifully  illustrated  by  the 
Dutch  artist,  John  Aarts.  From  Mr.  Van  Noppen's 
interesting  introductory  essay  on  Vondel — a  clear,  com- 
prehensive, and  convincing  exposition,  as  admirable  in 
style  as  it  is  valuable  in  matter — we  learn  many  inter- 
esting things  concerning  this  old  poet,  this  unknown 

447 


THE  AMERICAN  PRESS. 

Titan,  whom  the  ablest  students  of  literature  place  on 
the  same  plane  with  Milton,  Dante,  and  Aeschylus." — 
The  Saturday  Evening  Post,  Philadelphia. 

"In  almost  every,  if  not  in  every  individual  particular, 
the  book  is  a  model  of  what  such  a  book  should  be. 
Intelligent  and  scholarly  editing,  thoughtful  considera- 
tion for  all  the  several  needs  of  students  as  well  as 
readers,  liberal  and  judicious  provision  in  the  matter  of 
accessories,  a  cultivated  and  refined  taste  in  decoration, 
and  a  true  feeling  for  typographical  elegance  in  each 
respect  of  paper,  type,  margins,  edgings,  illustrations 
and  binding  unite  to  give  this  volume  a  character  of 
genuine  excellence  and  an  aspect  of  chaste  elegance  such 
as  are  not  often  seen  in  a  single  example.  The  total  is  a 
result  of  such  importance  and  value  that  we  shall 
describe  it  item  by  item." — The  Literary  World,  Boston. 

"Mr.  Van  Noppen's  introductory  study  of  the  Life  and 
Times  of  Vondel  is  masterly  in  knowledge  of  the  whole 
literary  atmosphere  of  the  day,  with  its  grand  galaxy  of 
writers.  *  *  *  Therefore  this  book  will  serve  another 
purpose  besides  that  of  introducing  Anglo-Saxon  read- 
ers to  the  beauties  of  Vondel's  masterpiece:  it  will  im- 
fold  to  them  as  well  the  history  of  Holland's  great 
literary  period  in  all  its  wealth  and  beauty.  In  this 
translation  of  the  drama  itself,  which  is  strictly  faithful 
to  the  original  in  spirit,  he  has  succeeded  in  reproducing 
to  a  considerable  extent  the  virility,  the  majesty,  of  the 
original."— The  Critic. 


Trotn  Sidtted  Reviews. 

"Mr.  Van  Noppen  has  laid  the  student  of  Milton  as 
well  as  the  student  of  Dutch  literature  under  weighty 
obligations  by  a  translation  of  the  drama  of  Lucifer 

448 


FROM  SIGNED  REVIEWS. 

which  is  not  only  true  to  the  sense  of  its  original,  but 
also  not  unworthy  of  its  fame." — Mayo  W.  Hazeltine,  in 
New  York  Sun. 

"Vondel's  Lucifer  is  just  as  readable  to-day  as  it  was 
two  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago,  and  in  this  translation 
the  energetic  simplicity  of  it  abides." — George  W. 
Smalley,  in  New  York  Herald. 

"We  prefer  to  accept  Mr.  Van  Noppen's  translation  as 
he  offers  it  for  the  worth  of  the  poem  itself,  and  that  is 
sufficient  for  many  a  century." — George  Henry  Payne, 
in  The  Criterion, 

"Mr.  Van  Noppen's  translation  of  the  Lucifer  in  this 
book  is  one  for  which  he  claims  literalness  to  a  close 
extent;  but  its  fluency  is  not  the  less  to  be  noted.  Some 
of  the  best  and  most  brilliant  passages  scarcely  seem 
like  a  translation,  so  naturally  and  choicely  do  the 
words  proceed." — Joel  Benton,  in  The  New  York  Times' 
"Review  of  Books." 

"I  spent  one  whole  evening  comparing  Mr.  Van 
Noppen's  translation  with  the  original.  As  far  as 
exactness  goes,  as  far  as  intimate  verbal  interpretation 
of  Vondel's  verse  is  concerned,  it  equals  Andrew  Lang's 
wonderful  prose  translation  of  the  Iliad.  By  far  the 
most  difficult  part  of  this  translation  must  have  been 

that  of  the  lyrics  and  choral  passages  (after  the  Greek 
mode)  with  which  the  drama  abounds.  Mr.  Van  Noppen 
has  preserved  (at  what  pains)  not  only  the  metre  and 
the  rhythm,  but  also  the  rhymes,  often  involute  and 
curiously  doubled." — Vance  Thompson,  in  Musical 
Courier. 

"The  work  evinces  not  only  a  mastery  of  seventeenth 
century  Dutch,  but  an  insight  into  metrical  effects  and 
facility  in  reproducing  them  in  English.     This  version 

449 


FROM  SIGNED  REVIEWS. 

could  not  have  come  from  one  who  had  not  drilled 
himself  for  years  in  the  theory  and  practice  of  English 
verse.  We  bespeak  for  the  handsome  volume  before  us 
a  wide  circulation.  That  such  a  translation  has  been 
sorely  needed  every  student  of  comparative  literature 
knows.  That  this  need  has  been  adequately  met  every 
impartial  student  of  Mr.  Van  Noppen's  version  will,  we 
believe,  readily  admit." — Prof.  C.  Alphonso  Smith, 
Ph.D.,  in  Modern  Language  Notes,  Baltimore,  Md., 
Dec,  1898. 

"The  intrinsic  value  of  the  work  makes  the  publica- 
tion of  Mr.  Van  Noppen's  translation  an  event  of 
peculiar  literary  interest." — John  D.  Barry,  in  Boston 
Literary  World. 


Cbc  Condon  Press. 

"The  dramatic  masterpiece  of  the  great  Dutch  poet 
of  the  seventeenth  century  has  found  a  skilled  and  vigor- 
ous translator  in  Mr.  Leonard  Charles  Van  Noppen,  and 
the  sustained  volume  is  further  enriched  by  a  careful 
memoir  of  the  author  of  Lucifer  and  by  an  elaborate 
critical  Interpretation  of  the  poem.  Justice  is  thus  at 
last  rendered  to  a  poet  of  unquestionable  genius  and 
inspiration,  of  whom  everything  like  a  fair  estimate  has 
hitherto  been  hardly  possible  to  an  English  reader. 
*  *  *  There  is  no  appeal  to  the  groundlings  in  the 
style  and  quality  of  the  verse,  which  in  Mr.  Van 
Noppen's  spirited  translation  has  a  march  of  sustained, 
or,  at  least,  of  rarely  failing  dignity  throughout,  and  in 
its  intercalated  choric  passages  is  by  no  means  wanting 
in  lyrical  charm.  *  *  *  But  after  half  a  dozen,  a  dozen, 
a  score,  of  similar  parallelisms  the  odds  against  chance 
and  in  favor  of  design  become  so  overwhelming  that  the 

450 


THE  LONDON  PRESS. 

least  mathematically  minded  of  men  will  reject  the 
former  hypothesis.  The  'long  arm  of  coincidence'  is  not 
so  long  as  all  that.  And,  most  assuredly,  it  is  not  long 
enough  to  cover  the  fact  that  Milton's  Samson  Agon- 
istes  followed  in  due  course  on  Vondel's  Samson,  and 
that  it  abounds  in  evidences  that  in  the  matter  of 
dramatic  construction,  at  any  rate,  to  leave  the  poetry 
out  of  the  question,  he  was  content  to  take  his  Dutch 
contemporary  as  his  closely  followed  model." — London 
Literature. 

"It  is  interesting  that  the  first  English  translation  of 
Vondel's  famous  play  should  be  made  in  America  and 
put  forth  in  the  old  Dutch  city  of  New  York.  The 
volume  is  a  handsome  one,  elaborately  gotten  up." — 
London  Daily  Chronicle. 

"Lucifer  is  a  large,  majestic  drama,  and  adorned  with 
several  beautiful  choric  odes." — W,  L.  Courtney,  in 
London  Daily  Telegraph. 

"*  *  *  Milton  undoubtedly  behaved  in  a  light- 
fingered  fashion  at  the  expense  of  Vondel,  not  once  or 
twice,  but  often.  *  *  *  After  a  long  lapse  of  time  this 
matter  is  reopened  by  Mr.  Leonard  Charles  Van  Noppen, 
whose  volume  in  praise  and  explanation  of  Vondel  is  a 
book  of  quite  uncommon  merit  and  charm,  and  one 
absolutely  indispensable  to  students  of  Milton.  *  *  * 
Of  Mr.  Van  Noppen's  success  as  a  translator  there  can 
be  only  one  opinion.  We  have  read  his  version  with 
surprise  and  delight.  Vondel's  Lucifer,  in  nearly  all 
respects,  will  prove  a  veritable  treasure  for  the  genuine 
book.lover," — The  London  Literary  World. 


451 


I 


Board  of  the  Queen  milDelmina  Cecturesbip, 
Columbia  University 

GENTLEMEN: 

We,  members  of  the  "Board  of  the  Queen  Wilhelmina 
Lectureship,  Columbia  University,"  Professor  Doctor 
G.  KalfF,  of  the  University  of  Leiden;  Member  Royal 
Academy  of  Sciences  of  Amsterdam;  Leiden.  President; 
J.  Heldring,  of  Heldring  &  Pierson,  Bankers,  the 
Hague;  J.  W.  IJzerman,  President  of  the  Royal  Nethcr- 
land  Geographical  Society  at  Amsterdam,  the  Hague; 
Wouter  NijhofF,  President  of  the  Dutch  Publishers' 
Association,  the  Hague;  Doctor  H.  J.  Kiewiet  de  Jonge, 
President  of  the  General  Dutch  Alliance,  Dordrecht, 
Hon.  Secretary,  herewith  plead  for  your  co-operation 
with  our  endeavors  to  spread  in  America  a  knowledge 
of  our  civilization  and  institutions.  Notwithstanding 
the  tremendous  influence  of  Holland  upon  England  and 
the  American  Colonies — an  influence  as  yet  hardly 
guessed — the  study  of  the  Dutch  and  their  history  in 
the  colleges  and  universities  of  America  is  still  uni- 
versally neglected.  So  little  in  fact  is  known  of  this 
subject  and  of  Holland's  part  in  civilization  that  there 
is  even  among  scholars  but  little  appreciation  of  the 
importance  of  this  subject.  Only  at  Columbia  Uni- 
versity is  there  any  evidence  of  interest.  Here  our 
literary  representative,  Leonard  C.  Van  Noppen,  whom 
we  have  selected  as  the  pioneer  to  blaze  the  way,  has 
inaugurated  several  courses  in  Dutch  Literature  and 
given  besides  lectures  on  the  various  periods  of  its 
development.  Since  Columbia  has  been  the  first  to 
co-operate  with  us,  will  not  your   institution   be  the 

4Si 


BOARD  OF  THE  QUEEN   N^^ILHELMINA 

second?  If  so,  will  you  kindly  address  Prof.  Leonard 
C.  van  Noppen,  Queen  Wilhelmina  Lecturer,  Columbia 
University,  N.  Y.?  Mr.  Van  Noppen  will  be  glad  at 
any  time  to  introduce  you  to  this  subject  and  to  lecture 
on  such  phases  of  it  as  you  may  deem  the  most  in- 
teresting. 

We  invite  your  students  to  our  universities.  Here  is 
a  field  which  will  enrich  scholarship  with  many  dis- 
coveries. The  selection  of  the  Hague  as  the  Capital  of 
Peace  has  given  Holland  a  new  international  im- 
portance. Your  universities  have  established  chairs  in 
Icelandic,  Chinese  and  Russian,  subjects  whose  im- 
portance and  value  are  incalculably  less  than  that  of 
Dutch.  Is  it  not  time  that  a  beginning  be  made  in 
this  direction?  Not  even  tlie  study  of  the  Spanish, 
the  Italian  and  the  French  is  so  fertile  of  results  as 
that  of  the  civilization  of  the  Netherlands,  which,  as 
the  mother  of  the  Teutonic  Renaissance,  influenced 
the  civilization  of  the  English-speaking  world  so  largely. 
Prof.  Butler  will,  upon  application,  be  glad  to  give 
Mr.  van  Noppen  leave  of  absence  to  lecture  at  your 
university.  Mr.  Van  Noppen  has  given  courses  of 
lectures  on  this  subject  at  the  Lowell  Institute,  Brook- 
lyn Institute,  Johns  Hopkins,  Columbia,  Michigan, 
Wisconsin,  Minnesota,  Cincinnati  and  many  other 
colleges  and  universities. 

We  add  the  following  notice  of  his  lecture  at  David- 
son College,  N.  C: 

"Davidson,  April  20. — It  is  altogether  too  seldom  that 
our  Southern  colleges,  certainly  it  is  true  of  Davidson, 
are  privileged  to  have  with  them  a  lecturer  of  the  type 
seen  in  Professor  Leonard  Charles  van  Noppen  of  the 
Queen  Wilhelmina  Chair  of  Dutch  Literature  in  Colum- 
bia University,  who  spoke  last  evening  in  Shearer  Hall 
and  who  speaks  again  this  evening  and  to-night. 

"Doctor  van   Noppen   was   introduced  by   Professor 

454 


LECTURESHIP,  COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY. 

Thomas  W.  Lingle,  who  in  a  brief  speech  told  of  the 
lecturers  right  by  virtue  of  birth  and  training  to  speak 
on  the  topic  selected  and  for  a  few  minutes  in  an  in- 
structive way  pointed  out  what  Holland  had  contributed 
to  Western  civilization  and  particularly  to  American 
life  and  history,  an  introduction  so  full  of  facts  marked 
with  such  accurate  historical  perspective  that  the 
Columbia  lecturer  in  making  acknowledgment  said  he 
felt  inclined  to  take  his  seat  and  let  Doctor  Lingle 
continue,  so  familiar  did  he  seem  with  the  subject 
he  himself  was  to  present. 

"To  say  that  Doctor  van  Noppen's  lecture  was  pop- 
ular, in  the  ordinary  sense  of  the  word,  would  do  it 
great  injustice.  It  was  too  comprehensive  in  its  reach, 
and  strong  in  its  grasp,  too  scholarly,  too  suggestive 
of  research  and  prolonged  investigation  and  study,  too 
elaborate  in  phrase  and  too  masterful  in  its  discrim- 
inating use  of  choice  English  and  ornate  diction  for 
any  one  to  call  it  popular.  Its  purpose  and  its  value 
is  not  of  this  order.  Rather,  after  listening  to  such  a 
paper,  the  scholar  is  glad  that  it  is  doubtless  to  appear 
in  permanent  or  book  form,  where  he  can  study  it  at 
leisure.  To  the  college  student  it  serves  as  a  stimulus, 
an  inspiration,  an  ideal  to  show  him  that  in  his  daily 
routine  of  class  room  work  he  is  only  laying  a  founda- 
tion on  which  to  build  and  with  which  he  may  begin 
the  higher  intellectual  life,  may  start  out  for  himself 
to  read,  to  investigate  and  in  time  reduce  to  consistent 
and  articulated  form  the  results  of  his  own  weeks  and 
months  not  to  say  years  of  patient  toil  in  the  great 
libraries. 

"In  a  very  strict  sense  Doctor  van  Noppen's  first 
lecture  was  scholarly  and  showed  clearly  that  it  breathes 
a  university  atmosphere  and  is  intended  primarily  and 
ultimately  for  the  lecture  hall  of  the  Johns  Hopkins 
University,  where  he  is  soon  to  deliver  the  series.     He 

455 


BOARD  OF  THE  QUEEN  WILHELMINA 

is  just  now  returning  from  a  lecture  tour  in  the  West. 

"Beginning  with  a  clever  characterization  of  the 
people  of  Holland  as  a  practical  one,  first  reclaiming 
from  the  sea  a  land  to  live  on,  and  then  anchoring  it  to 
the  continent,  in  rapid  review  he  showed  what  a  won- 
derful contribution  this  little  country,  less  than  Mary- 
land, and  small  in  everything  but  in  history,  has  made 
to  modern  Christian  civilization.  Washed  out  of  the 
soil  of  Germany  on  toward  the  sea — and  no  wonder 
that  Germany  looks  with  envious  eyes  upon  it — it  is 
the  richest  country  imaginable.  It  has  a  per  capita 
wealth  of  $12,000  as  against  America's  $4,000.  In  pro- 
portion to  population  it  has  done  more  for  civilization 
than  any  other  nation,  not  even  Greece  excepted.  Then 
followed  in  rapid  review  the  facts  of  history  in  sub- 
stantiation of  the  claim. 

"Conspicuous  in  the  claims  and  seemingly  substanti- 
ated was  in  the  influence  of  Holland  in  spreading 
abroad,  notably  in  America,  the  doctrines  of  the  equal- 
ity of  all  men,  separation  of  Church  and  State,  religious 
freedom,  freedom  of  the  press,  local  self-government. 

"Fine  was  the  description  of  Philip  of  Spain,  of 
William  the  Silent.  Interesting  was  the  portrayal  of 
the  work  of  the  Chamber  of  Eglantine  of  Amsterdam, 
of  the  men  of  letters  of  Leiden  and  the  intellectual 
forces  leading  up  to  and  resulting  in  the  great  Uni- 
versity in  Leiden, 

"Most  striking  of  all  was  his  brilliant  description 
of  the  life  and  work  of  the  great  Dutch  poet  Vondel 
and  the  story  of  how  Milton,  the  greatest  of  English 
Epic  poets,  has  been  content  to  fallow,  imitate  and  copy 
from  Vondel  in  his  Lucifer  where  Vondel  has  shown 
himself  the  great  dramatist." 

The  "Baltimore  Sun"  writes  of  his  lecture  at  Johns 
Hopkins: 

"Very    frequently    since    the    day    when     Geoffrey 

456 


LECTURESHIP,  COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY. 

Chaucer  fashioned  his  immortal  'Canterbury  Tales' 
upon  Bocaccio's  'Decameron,'  English  poets  have  been 
subject  to  the  impeachment  of  having  borrowed  (usually 
without  proper  acknowledgment)  from  foreign  sources 
— borrowed  material,  plot,  episodes,  characters  and, 
sometimes,  language,  embodied  in  whole  phrases  and 
sentences.  The  Elizabethan  Age,  pre-eminent  though 
it  was  in  creative  literary  excellence,  has  not  escaped 
the  challenge  of  its  originality.  French  and  Italian 
influences  and  writers  exercised  a  strongly  formative 
power  upon  Drayton,  Sidney,  Spenser  and  others  of 
the  elect,  and  even  the  great  Bard  of  Stratford  did  not 
scruple  at  transmuting  the  clay  of  less  gifted  molders 
into  the  gold  of  his  superb  coinage. 

"But  it  has  not  been  generally  recognized  that  Milton 
was  such  an  appropriator.  Accordingly,  Dr.  L.  C. 
van  Noppen's  lecture  showing  that  the  great  Puritan 
poet  was  indebted  to  the  'Lucifer'  of  Vondel,  the  Dutch 
author,  for  the  theme,  the  treatment,  the  description  and 
even  some  of  the  finest  passages  in  'Paradise  Lost/ 
is  a  surprise.  Yet  Dr.  Van  Noppen  makes  out  a  very 
strong  case.  The  appearance  of  'Lucifer'  a  short  time 
before  Milton's  Continental  tour,  which  was  cut  short 
by  the  breaking  out  of  the  great  civil  war  in  England; 
the  strong  likelihood  that  Milton  had  heard  of  Vondel 
and  his  work  through  Roger  Williams,  whose  sojourn 
in  Europe  had  made  him  acquainted  with  'Lucifer,*  and 
who  had  instructed  Milton  in  modern  languages; 
Milton's  association  in  Paris  with  Hugo  Grotius,  one  of 
the  most  eminent  scholars  of  his  time,  a  countryman 
and  an  enthusiastic  admirer  of  Vondel — all  combine  into 
a  strong  chain  of  circumstantial  evidence,  which,  rein- 
forced by  the  undeniable  similarity  and  the  many 
parallel  passages  in  the  tv/o  great  works,  make  a  con- 
clusion which  is  almost  imperative. 

"But  the  conceding  of  Milton's  debt  to  Vondel  does 

457 


BOARD  OF  1,ECTURESHIP,  COLUMBIA  UNIV. 

not  cancel  our  debt  to  Milton,  whose  sublime  epic  has 
given  pleasure  and  comfort  to  scores  of  readers  to 
whom  Vondel's  drama  has  been  a  sealed  volume. 
Neither  does  it  release  our  obligation  to  'render  unto 
Caesar  the  things  that  are  Caesar's.' " 

Furthermore,  we  hope  that  you  will  consider  the 
establishment  of  a  chair  in  Dutch  Literature  or  History 
and  that  you,  in  anticipation  of  this  foundation,  will 
from  time  to  time  send  us  such  students  as  desire  to 
make  this  subject  their  specialty.  Hoping  that  you, 
after  a  consideration  of  this  matter,  will  co-operate  with 
us,  I  am 

Respectfully  yours  for  the  Board  of 
the  Queen  Wilhelmina  Lectureship, 

H.  J.  Kiewiet  de  Jonge, 

Hon.  Secretary. 

DORDRECHT  (Holland),  November,  1915. 


45? 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

(  Los  Angeles 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


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